


In Their Words

by Rj_the_Writer



Series: Hunger Games Collection [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Victors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 96,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rj_the_Writer/pseuds/Rj_the_Writer
Summary: For nearly two centuries, countless amounts of teenagers have died during the Hunger Games. After the war to end the Hunger Games, this Documentary series has been established to remember the fallen, and to tell the hunger games In Their Words.
Series: Hunger Games Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102034
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction

_**A Note from The CEO:** _

To our beloved fanbase, we cannot thank you immensely enough for the continued purchase of the "In Their Words" documentary series. Whether you are a new fan or have been following us since our company's foundation, we cannot thank you enough. As you watch the victors from Remus to Romulon, from Paisley to Hannah, we hope you understand the labor of love that our team has undergone in order to show history at its most alive.

Again, we cannot thank you enough as you go through the storied history of Panem's most violent centuries and the event that triggered Panem's second revolution. Please understand that though the narrators are in fact reenactors of the ever popular victors, this is a work that has been in production for many decades, centuries even, so when appropriate there will be footage.

And finally, if you are just learning about the Hunger Games community, this 19 disc set comes equipped with a glossary for friendly terms and a poster of a timeline regarding all your favorite victors. Thank you for purchasing our family's magnum opus.

Sincerely,

_Lucinda Nevelsworth_

_**Panem Recorded CEO** _


	2. Glossary of Relevant Hunger Games Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Provided with this disc set are relevant terms for your enjoyment.

_**A Glossary of Relevant Hunger Games Terms:** _

**Academy:** _(May be subject to different names depending on district, including but not limited to the Gem, the Crag, the Pearl, the Orchard, the Hem, the Reed, and the Igniter);_ Capitol and District funded training locations within the Districts. While never officially acknowledged by the capitol until the end of the 1st century of Hunger Games, the Academies were largely shaped by the efforts of Districts 1, 2, and 4 before smaller facilities would eventually come up in Districts 7-9 and 13. By the end of the Hunger Games even smaller facilities were in the process of being built. Academies are most notorious for creating inner District strife and stronger than average tributes known as careers.

**Arena:** Where the hunger Games take place. Arenas can be as big as 40 square miles and as small as one square mile, with a large portion of hunger games actually taking place indoors. The arenas are subject to the whims and follies of the gamemakers, supplanted by the latest and greatest technology of the Districts. 90% of arenas were destroyed, leaving behind only the most significant.

**Bloodbath:** The period in time after the hunger games gong rings, when most tributes rush to the center of supplies at the Cornucopia where bloodshed and screams inevitably are produced.

**The Cornucopia:** The central point of many arenas. The cornucopia takes its name from the artifact used for a wide plethora of supplies, which many tributes run to in order to survive. ITs varying but distinct shape makes it a suitable landmark for the end of hunger games.

**Emcee: (In some years the role may be combined with the host)** The capitol official responsible for narrating the parades and hunger games

**Escort:** Capitol officials designated to select and facilitate the tributes at the annual reapings. Most escorts are fans of their District and staunch loyalists to the capitol.

**Feast:** A mid-hunger games event that promises supplies and materials to the tributes who made it this far, seen by many as a mini bloodbath that usually kills anywhere from one to four tributes.

**Gamemaker:** Capitol officials in charge of running the functions of the game.

**Head Gamemaker:** The overseer of the officials. There have been 12 recorded official head game makers and 16 years without a head gamemaker.

**Host: (In some years the role may be combined with the emcee)** The capitol official in charge of conducting the tribute interviews and the final victory interview

**Hunger Games:** An event in which typically 26 teens from 12 to 18 are forced to fight to the death, with the sole survivor being named the victor.

**Mentor:** initially a capitol official, a mentor is a victor from a previous games attempting to mentor their tribute through the hunger games

**Muttations:** Previously used during the dark days as biological weaponry against the districts, many muttations were developed for the purposes of inciting violence in the Hunger Games. Muttations are any combination of Human, Animal, and Plant DNa.

**Parcel Day:** For a year after a district brings home a victory, the capitol sends a monthly train full of needed supplies and essentials.

**Prep Team:** Composed of a stylist and 3 assistants, the prep team is in charge of making the tribute (and if lucky, their victor) presentable to the capitol audience.

**President:** The most powerful person in Panem, has been held by 13 different individuals

**Quarter Quell:** A special hunger games that occurs every quarter century, which has different twists added. Seven Quarter Quells have produced seven victors from wide circumstances.

**Reaping:** An annual event that is the kick off of the hunger games. It is staggered through the nation of Panem and is a source of contention around the district.

**Supplementary Games:** An unknown amount of Hunger Games that featured tributes cloned from dead bodies. 22 are confirmed to exist with many more having possibly taken place as the result of private functions. The tributes revived were dead anywhere from a year to 100 years after their games. The survivors of these games are victors but they are of different breed and if encountered, must be treated with care.

**Tesserae:** A measured amount of grain and oil that are meant to be used as emergency rations given out in exchange for more names in the reaping bowl

**Token:** A memento that tributes are allowed to bring into the Hunger Games, typically representative of their District.

**Training:** A 3 day long period in which Tributes hone and cram skills for survival. At the end of this three day endeavor, the tributes were to exhibit their skills in order to be judged on a scale from 1 to 12. Very few have received an 11 and even fewer received a 12.

**Tributes:** Participants of the Hunger Games

**Victor:** The sole survivors of the Hunger Games, typically after killing

**Victor's Village:** A private neighborhood of 12 houses (able to be expanded if needed) where victors reside after their games under Capitol watch and security.

**Victory Tour:** An annual event that occurs six months after the conclusion of the Hunger games. Takes place in winter to keep hunger Games Fervor up, and features the victor visiting Districts from reverse numerical order, celebrating with local flavors along the way.

**Volunteer:** An individual who enters the hunger games after proclaiming their volunteer-ship.


	3. Atlas of Hunger Games Locations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For reference, enclosed is an index of the geography of Panem as established during the period of the Hunger Games.

_**An Index of Relevant Hunger Games Locations:** _

**Panem:** One of the World's superpowers and possibly the oldest civilization in the present day.. In the days of the Hunger Games it comprised the Capitol and 13 Districts. Present Day Panem spans as far north as 68 degrees latitude, as far south as 21 degrees latitude, as far west as -166.7 degrees longitude and as far east as -64 degrees longitude. There are now 42 main Districts of Panem ranging from industries of grain to waste. Its population has boomed from the end of the hunger games to contemporary times, now totaling in 15 million from the previous 2-4 million it boasted. Its population boom is attributed to the fact that it is no longer as isolated as it once was.

 **The Capitol:** Renamed District 14 at the end of the Hunger Games Revolution, the Capitol is the gubernatorial center of Panem, and remains as the Governing District. Always the most populous, even during the times of the Hunger Games, the Capitol still remains stigmatized as a hub of depravity and degeneracy.

 **District 1:** The richest of the original Districts, District 1's primary export are luxury items and their main services include many forms of entertainment. District 1 is rather dry and consists of many abandoned settlements. A typical District 1 citizen is attractive but their actual physical qualities vary, though it does have the highest portion of blondes. The present day District 1 is now much smaller due to some of its land being allocated to District 18 (Architecture) and District 24 (Cosmetics). It was one of the most powerful Districts during the Hunger Games, a founding Career District. The District ended the games with 22 total main victors.

 **District 2:** District 2 holds a reputation as the strongest and the toughest District. Located mainly in mountainous terrain, residents are typically of a strong, pale skinned, and dark haired variety, though it is one of the more diverse regions of Panem. District 2 to this day is responsible for much of the peacekeeper force but during the time of the Hunger Games District 2 took the responsibilities of District 29's masonry and District 25's firearms. Historically, District 2 had the most Victors of the Hunger games with 27 main victors.

 **District 3:** Unlike many of the Districts in close proximity to the capitol, District 3 is rather weak. Having procured 7 victors, District 3 is often typecast informally as one of the three or four factory districts. Citizens are typically of Asian descent, on the smaller side, and are seen as more pragmatic than the rest. The economy of District 3 is still the technology that initially created it, and most of the technology developed were used as prototypes for the Hunger Games arenas, but District 3 has since splintered off into District 17, the Education District. In the Hunger Games District 3 was seen as weak, claiming only 7 main victors by the end.

 **District 4:** District 4 is one of the most expansive Districts in Panem, a claim they can hold due to their wayfaring capabilities and sea-abiding duties. In the present Day, District 4 is split between District 29 (The Atlantic Islands District), District 19 (the Pacific Islands District), and Mainland District 4. District 4 contained refugees from Australia and Southeast Asia, making it a diverse place. Its climate is humid and warm most of the time, and it is one of the most disaster stricken Districts. Known for tributes of athletic and strong builds, District 4 is the second most powerful District when the games were running, gaining at least 25 victors by the end of the Hunger Games.

 **District 5:** Located in a Desert, District 5 is a modestly popular District due to the boom in population it has experienced. While it now struggles to contain a growing population, in the days of the Hunger Games District 5 was one of the most sparsely populated and suffered through dust storms, heatwaves, and drought on a regular basis. The district specializes in renewable energy that powers the Capitol and its home. District 5 citizens have a higher than average chance of having their children be redheads and green eyes are most common here. It was the most powerful non-academy District before the end of the Hunger Games and garnered 11 main victors by the end.

 **District 6:** District 6 is known in contemporary times for its collaborative efforts with District 21 (exploration) and having its factories re purposed for many general goods. In the time of the Hunger Games, Districts 6 and 12 were regarded as the weakest of the weak. Its claustrophobic cities and intense working facilities made the perfect storm for a wide array of mental issues. Their population is diverse and rather unkempt, though there are exceptions. District 6 has claimed 6 main victors, the joint lowest in all of Panem.

 **District 7:** In the time of the Hunger Games, District 7 was the most powerful non career district mostly in part due to its main industry of Lumber. District 7's residents encourage a highly active and productive lifestyle but its rebellious past meant that it was hard for many of its tributes to gain footing. Its population is typically lighter shaded but is rather diverse. In the present day, District 7 is split between District 28 (Terrestrial Environments research) and District 30 (Alaska). By the end of the Hunger Games District 7 claimed 16 main victors and an Academy of its own.

 **District 8:** Between the time of Hunger Games and contemporary times, District 8 is ultimately the least changed. While the lifestyles are better and the claustrophobic factory setting no longer strangles its residents, and asthma rates have declined significantly, it and District 6 still have abnormally high rates of these maladies, attributing to a lower lifespan. Their tribute's occasional surprising strength is attributed to the fact that District 8 has a thriving 'street' community, where people who live on the streets in poorer apartments or are homeless have to be tough to survive. There are 14 main -some of which are the product of the academy in place for the last decades in the hunger games.

 **District 9:** The largest contiguous District, even after it was subdivided into the Alcohol District (22), District 9 is earmarked by its massive rolling fields of grain. For lack of a better term, because of boredom, many of the district's teens find work either exploring the fields or working them, getting strong and accommodated to the sun. Much of District 9 is at least slightly tanned and rather strong. In the times of the Hunger Games, District 9 was the a powerful district and managed to bring home 15 main victors. It and District 7 owes much of its later success to the academies in place past the 3rd quarter quell and beyond.

 **District 10:** Now divided into District 37 (Meatpacking) and District 10 (Livestock rearing), District 10 in the times of the hunger games was, quite bluntly, a mixed bag. Though the livestock workers outnumbered the meat-packers, it was the meatpackers who most often sent their children to the games, and the difference between the meat packers and the ranchers were home 9 main victors and a slew of varying stereotypes such as the hunky cowboy or the sexy veterinarian or the sun deprived meat packer, more than anything else, District 10 was the wild card.

 **District 11:** One of the three most traditionally rebellious districts behind Eight and Thirteen, District 11 remains as the main fruit basket of Panem. Vegetables, fruits, and trees in capitol gardens can trace their lineage to the greenhouses that dot District 11. Like District 10 it is a wild card, but most of its tributes share the same dark skin and workhorse attitude. District 11 brought home 7 main victors on par with District 3, in no part due to its rebelliousness and strong tributes being most likely seen as flukes.

 **District 12:** One of two traditionally weakest, District 12 has expanded the most relative to its original size. A not insignificant portion of its population now are self proclaimed wilderness survivalists and the allure of their personalities carry through the nation. However, during the Hunger Games 12 was commonly seen as the biggest butt-monkey, with its tributes dying fairly often in the bloodbath. Despite this, seven lucky District 12 tributes made it home the first time.

 **District 13:** The most rebellious district in the time of the Hunger Games, District 13 was responsible for two things, nuclear supplies and Graphite. While District 13 has also split off into District 35 (Nuclear supplies) and District 41 (medical supplies), only the graphite part of District 13 was known to those who lived in the times of the Hunger Games. Its citizens seemed to always be preparing for the next war to come about, and so District 13 citizens were better prepared for the hunger games, bringing out 14 victors, tying it with District 8. It is a diverse district but it is far more common to see ashy and pale citizens rather than tanned ones due to the time they have allocated underground.

 **The United States of America:** The land on which Panem rose from the ashes. The United States of America once held an estimated population of anywhere from 270 million to 400 million, far beyond the population of the world today. Much of its features shaped Panem's life but ultimately little is known of this once sea spanning nation.

 **Asia:** The ancestral homeland of many district 3 and 4 citizens, Asia was the largest continent in the world. Any surviving populations have relocated to the H'Mlyas and to the Mongla steppe. The region of Ancient Asia now contains an estimated three million people and was the site of three dozen hunger games.

 **Africa:** Many of District 11's ancestors, however faintly, can trace their lineage to thi land of diverse but overall hot climates and civilizations. Currently its population has 4 million people and the region is home to a dozen and a half arenas.

 **Antarctica:** A cold, barren desert sparsely populated by wildlife and remains of old research stations and arenas. Antarctica has no known civilization on it and was home to only 6 hunger games, the fewest of all regions.

 **Australia:** A continent located entirely in the southern hemisphere, home to 4 million citizens, it sports an inland lake and was home to three dozen hunger Games.

 **Europe:** A small land of many different islands and land features, 2 million people claim Europe as their homeland and many individuals in Panem can actually trace their ancestry to Europe in a time before the cataclysm that shaped the world. It was home to the most foreign hunger games with 4 dozen of them.

 **North America:** The continent Panem is on, once home home to many islands and countries, it is now dominated by one and supported by four. Anada, Panem, Ziggurat, and Xacha. Its population is the largest, 12 million, and the undisputed center of the world.

 **South America:** Home to 2 million people, South America is a land of many different civilizations, some more civil than others, but was also home to an easy two dozen hunger games.


	4. Footage of the First Post War Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a recreation of the most widely accepted theory as to how the Hunger Games started. Though brief, it is based off of what is known from historians from a time long gone.

_**Footage from the First Official Meeting Regarding Punishment** _

No one knows what started the first spark. Was it the murder of a Capitol Liaison in District 8? Was it the murder of the beloved mayor of District 12? Was it a wildfire that seemed to never end, blazing forward in District 7? What started the fire?

Historians, to this day, do not know.

What they do know is, in fact, what drenched the fire. Thirteen Districts who once stood tall against the capitol would eventually fall, one by one, until at last, District 13 bent a knee in front of their almighty ruler.

Life would go on, District 4 would continue to bring fish from the sea, District 10 would continue their rearing of animals, and District 12 would further their coal mines into the deep dank recesses of the earth. For those born in this era, it would be all they know.

But the Capitol, as merciful of a hand it dealt, would bite back. From his presidential mansion, President Homer del Ave looked over the 13 districts as 13 unruly children. He called his 13 advisers, haggard and beaten with the effects of the Dark Days just now behind them, and all thirteen of them would bear the brunt. Like a father speaking to his children, the president cleared his throat.

"There is a major price to pay for the crime of treason," he declared. "I have drafted the side effects of this… Treason. The Treaty of Treason shall exist as a reminder of the peace broken by the districts you all led." No one dared to speak as from the president's robes came a scroll that was longer than the other advisers if they were laid end to end. As he made his way down the list, stopping at the paragraph, the president cleared his throat.

_**In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public 'reaping'. These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred into a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as the Hunger Games.** _

"Are there any objections?" the president asked.

A foolish adviser raised his hand. Fear in his eyes disappeared for a brief moment as one of the President's armed men in white fired a single bullet between his head. "There will be a new adviser for 13. You others are no longer my advisers. You are war criminals. You enabled the Districts. District 13 has a suitable replacement for the advisers. Until the end, you will see the tributes fight until one ends."

Twelve heads bowed silently. Six men and six women were marched to their golden cage prisons. President Balm looked at the corpse of the foolish District 13 adviser. "Do not think your District is exempt, Adviser Jacobius. Your assistant, Aurelius, shall take over your spot."

The room cleared and the President sat in his armchair. Historians would say that the Hunger Games was meant to be the final solution for the uprising.

Alas, like all things 'final' in the eyes of the government, it would not last.


	5. Tall Poppies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 01 TALL POPPIES :** _

_**Name: Remus Valentino** _

_**District: 02** _

_Age: 17_

Directed by Justin Matherton (Capitol)

After two long years of combat and untold amounts of death, the war was finally over. District 13, District 11, District 8 all suffered heavy losses through the war while the first districts to surrender to the capitol, Districts 1, 2, and 4 made it off lightly. Districts 6 and 12 suffered crippling losses due to power hungry rebels. Districts 5 and 10 were locked in a civil war between the rebels and the loyalists. District 7 gained a significant territory claim in the Alaska Province, full of rebels fleeing the fight in the mainland. District 9 was only the most stable in the territory it held and suffered the brunt of many forces trudging through its grainland. District 3, though a rebellious force, suffered bombings after bombings and many technologies were reclaimed by the capitol.

The capitol, in a supposed act of mercy, opted to kill 26 teenagers, one male and one female, aged 12-18 from the 13 districts in an annual pageant known as the Hunger Games. Ostensibly to keep the peace between the capitolitans and the districts, the games did exactly the opposite, and the Hunger Games caused a major source of strife as the games went on.

A year after the first plans were drafted up the first annual Hunger Games were good to go. The first ever reapings were delayed with rebellious attacks and no less than two dozen executions. Districts 1, 2, and 4 notably had smoother reapings than District 8 and District 13. To consolidate the larger districts of 7, 9, and 11, the District had preliminary draws to send a selected 10% of the eligible population.

The loyal Districts served tributes, who on the whole, were better presented than the other districts. The weakest of the 6 was the District 1 girl while the strongest was the District 2 boy. The toll of the war was heavy on them all but regardless the tributes pressed on, grimly proud to represent their country. The girl from District 3, the girl from District 6, both from District 8, and the tributes from District 13 all cursed the capitol, with the boy from District 8 punching the escort. The girl from District 10 and the boy from District 11 both vomited on stage, with even the boy from District 1 and the girl from District 9 crying on stage.

Such events would only increase with frequency as the Hunger Games went on.

The tributes took a day long trip to equalize the travel distance such that all tributes would arrive in the capitol at once. Upon arrival, Hunger Games fever hit a critical temperature as many amateur toy makers and designers made merchandise to honor this once in a lifetime occasion. Bets were placed on their favorites, their least favorites, and who would likely to strip naked. The capitol celebrations would only grow more elaborate as the years went on.

By popular demand President del Ave created several events in which the Capitolites could enjoy their tributes before the inevitable death of 25 of them. A team of stylists and designers were assigned as a prep-team to make the tributes more attractive to the capitol audience. This would later be known as the parade of tributes, so named because the district representatives were sent down the Capitol's main street in front of a cheering audience. It was there that District 4, District 7, and District 9 shined, and what many would argue was their peak.

The first scheduled event of the year were the training days. Tributes were taken to an underground gymnasium in their quarters where necessary skills were tested and learned. Until an incident with a District 3 tribute in the 18th Hunger Games, the training was held in front of a live capitol audience. The gamemakers and prominent capitol citizens would remain watching the tributes until an incident with a District 12 tribute in the 74th Hunger Games.

Most tributes went to the weapons, where to the delight of the capitol, slapstick ensued. Most of the teens, bar the District 9 male, the District 2 Male, the District 6 Female, the District 4 boy, and the psychotic siblings from District 10, were out of their element more than not. There were tributes who spent their days practically learning survival skills of hunting and foraging and water retrieval yet it was hard to determine what was needed.

In front of the gamemakers, at the conclusion of lunch on the third day, the tributes were to demonstrate any number of skills for a score from 1-12 as determined from the gamemakers. The scores from this, and their performances the next day on what would be dubbed interview night were pivotal in determining the odds of the tributes.

Interview night started off with a bang and many tributes shined. Carried by Gaius Flickerman, many of the tributes found that he was one of their closer allies throughout the Hunger Games. Tributes shone and tributes failed. The naturals from District 1 and 9 shone in front of the live audience while Districts 2, 4, and 7 did respectably. Shockingly, the capitol audience loved the rebellious attributes from District 13 and 8.

District 1; Male: Charm Levoisier (16), 6, 18-1 odds; Female: Aurora Daint (14), 3, 64-1 odds

District 2; Male: Remus Valentino (17), 10, 8-1 odds; Female: Juno Evans, (18), 7, 18-1 odds

District 3; Male: Aaron Pylon, (14), 2, 56-1 odds; Female: Lisa Chordata, (15), 7, 24-1 odds

District 4; Male: Bryson Sanderson (16), 9, 8-1 odds; Female: Helena Nami, (16), 4 56-1 odds

District 5; Male: Jolt Nakama (14), 7, 18-1 odds; Female: Ava Leduci (17), 6, 20-1 odds

District 6; Male: Paul Garrett (18), 3, 72-1 odds; Female: Olga Patina (18), 10, 8-1 odds

District 7; Male: Sid Aliso (12), 4, 40-1 odds; Female: Daphne Elmer (13), 4, 40-1 odds

District 8; Male: Devon Cross (15), 6, 36-1 odds; Female: Calico Acerola (17), 8, 8-1 odds

District 9; Male: Taylor Montague (16), 10, 8-1 odds; Female: Shauna Miller (15), 5, 30-1 odds

District 10; Male: Peter Quintana (17), 9, 10-1 odds; Female: Felidae Gato (15), 7, 20-1 odds

District 11; Male: Curtis Davis (18), 5, 36-1 odds ;Female: Eugenia Cawtoba (18), 9, 12-1 odds

District 12; Male: Grover Coleman (18), 4, 36-1 odds; Female: Lilah Carrew (17), 7, 15-1 odds

District 13; Male: Arlin Duque (16), 8, 12-1 odds; Female: Elina Asami (16), 8, 12-1 odds

While some tributes excelled and others withered away, the tributes managed to present a great first show. In the years following the games would only be cooler

_**In his words: Remus** _

The 26 of us rise up into what looks like a rather simple forest arena. All of us have a three hundred and sixty degree view of the temperate forest among us all. A chilly win picks up and causes our black jackets to flutter ever so slightly. Even looking at the ground I can see that the white camouflage tees that we sport will do nothing to hide us all.

I look around the circle. With luck I'm next to the 14 year old from District 5 on my left and the girl from District 7 is on my left. The boy is the bigger threat but District 7 has a hardier district. It's a tough decision but the District 5 boy may in fact be scared for his life. He's next to the girl from district 10, the lunatic, Felidae. I haven't learned the names of them all, but Peter, Taylor, and Eugenia are the other threats. If all goes well my rapport with the girl from District 6 will help.

The thundering voice of Ouranos Medderland causes all of us to snap to attention. "Welcome all to the first annual Hunger Games. Let this tournament of Districts be a reminder to our descendants that their crimes will not be forgotten and that the Capitol is merciful but disciplined. With that said, let the Hunger Games begin!"

His voice is replaced by a countdown. Judging by the light misting on my neck there's either a river or a lake behind me. I look around the arena that we are all stuck in. Though it seems as though the forest continues, a thought itches at the back of my head and I just know that there's going to be more environments in this arena. It can't be that big, right?

The countdown continues when we all hear a scream. A large gust of wind plows through all of us and it has caught many of us off guard. A girl flails in the distance and she falls flat on her face. We look at her as she tries to push herself off but then a cloud of dirt obscures her instantly.

_26th, Lisa Chordata, 15 years old, District 3 Female, Blown up by Landmines_

When the dust finally settles her district partner takes off a shoe and places it gingerly on the dirt in front of him. "We're safe!" he shouts in his scraggly, whiny voice. He takes a step forward and looks around awkwardly and fearfully. It isn't until another boy, Bryson from 4, steps down with a flip.

One by one we all step forward to the bronze cornucopia full of supplies and murder toys for the audience to watch us play with. I want to run, grab the weapons. If I don't do it then the others will, they'll team up and kill all of us all. But I know that the rebels can't win. They lost before they could lose again.

The first one of us to break from the crowd grabs a sword that is too heavy for her to use. As she swings it around it's clear that she dizzies herself. Impulsively I hold my hand out as she charges wildly at all of us, but we've got enough berth for her to tire out, and she becomes dizzy. She steadies herself once more and charges at her district partner, who dodges out of the way and yanks the sword out of her hand.

Taylor throws the surprisingly small girl into a pile of spears that collapses in on her. Blood pools and we wait in a sustained moment of tension. A cannon fires and we all jump, scared out of our minds.

_25th, Shauna Miller, 15 years old, District 9 Female, Speared by Taylor Montague (9M)_

Dumbfounded, many of us turn to the massive boy from District 9. "She ran at me first," he says matter of factly. Fear is spreading among us, it doesn't take much of a genius to smell that. "SHE GOT TO ME FIRST!" he yells again as Bryson makes a dash to the weapons. The 9 boy grabs a giant bag and pushes the 4 boy away, running away even as the 7 girl tries to grab him.

He's not the only one running. I hear on both sides of me two pairs of footsteps pushing forward against the soft grass. Someone trips and I know I need to run to the center. Olga, Ava, and Juno have made it there first but I'm not far behind. I sling a bag on my back and carry a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The psycho boy from 10 tries to cut me down with a scythe. His sister can't be far behind. I turn around to see that the boy has chosen, of all things, a shovel and is trying to bash it against me.

I give a shout and push him against my shield before following through with the sword to his side. He falls to the ground, twitching as I kick him once. It's then his sister spots me kicking him and she tries to run at me. I steel myself, ready for combat, only to be tackled away by the boy from 13. I'm punched repeatedly before I get my bearings straight, and he tries to stab me with a knife.

Luckily for me, he's a poor shot and I have better reflexes. I push my shield against him and swing my sword in a wide arc as he rushes forward against me. I wince as blood splatters against my clothes but he falls to the ground, unmoving.

_24th, Arlin Duque, 16 years old, District 13 Male, Slashed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

I stand up hastily, seeing Olga finishing off the District 10 girl before she runs off into the forest. The 10 girl convulses and throws up as she's trampled when I see Juno run over her.

_23rd, Felidae Quintana, 15 years old, District 10 Female, trampled by Juno Evans (D2F)_

Juno scampers off into the forest and I see other fights still beginning and some ending. I stand up and retreat into the cornucopia, finding another bag and slinging it over my shoulder. It's clear that many tributes have been here and ravaged the supplies within. Memories of the stores vandalized during the Dark DAys begin to flood. I don't know what it is but I need to get out of here.

As I turn around I feel a light weight jumping onto me. The strawberry blond hair of the District 1 girl whips in front of my head and I'm momentary blinded as she wraps her tiny hands around me. I back into the wall of the bronze cornucopia and slam repeatedly. She loosens her grip and I push my sword through her exactly once. She lets out a dying scream and I run out of the cornucopia.

_22nd, Aurora Daint, 14 years old, District 1 Female, Stabbed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

When I step out of the arena I see the District 5 boy on the ground, throat slit and gasping for air. I have to turn away all too unfortunately as his death rattle echoes.

_21st, Jolt Nakama, 14 years old, District 5 Male, Throat Slit by Calico Acerola (D8F)_

I rush forward with my packs, tripping as someone grabs me by the ankle. I turn around to see the 8 boy, still alive but badly injured. He has a death grip on my ankles and no matter how hard I move the boy refuses to let go. Finally I manage to kick him away and stand up, dealing one final brutal kick to his ribs as he gasps for air. The boy draws a last breath and he shudders.

_20th, Devon Cross, 15 years old, District 8 Male, Lung punctured by Remus Valentino (d2M)_

The boy is holding a water bottle. Against my better judgement I pry it from his other hand, and the District 11 girl tries to wrap a cable around me. I feel my windpipe closing as I reach behind me, flinging the girl forward onto a crowbar. The girl screams in pain loudly and I stab her in the stomach, spilling her stomach over the ground .

 _19th,_ _Eugenia Cawtoba, 17 years old, District 11 Female, Disemboweled by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

I regain my breath on the ground and look around, seeing the girl from District 12 finish her battle against Elina from District 13. As I immediately think of how another threat has been neutralized, I feel a sensation of bile rising in my stomach. I'm more honorable than that, at least I hope…

_18th, Elina Asami, 16 years old, District 13 Female, Stabbed in forehead by Lilah Carrew (D12F)_

I stand up again, holding out my sword as I stretch. Suddenly I hear a scream and turn immediately to my right as I'm vaguely aware of blood dripping down the blade. The youngest tribute of the year has just run into my blade. As I look into his fearful eyes he whimpers softly. "Caerus?" I whisper as the boy falls down.

_17th, Sid Aliso, 12 years old, District 7 Male, Ran into sword held by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

His partner, the second youngest tribute of the year looks at me with as much fear as her partner carried in her eyes. She feebly backs away and runs in the other direction. Against my instincts I don't pursue.

I look around the entirety of the battlefield. Once Vibrant and lush, the smell of iron is overwhelming as I slowly inch my way out of this first… this first bloodbath. My breath hitches and I begin to see the faces of my one time classmates drifting across the sea of bodies. All too suddenly a deranged scream comes from my left and then there's sharp pain in my shoulder.

I roar in pain and slam my shield where I think that the assailant would be. The three boy crawls away, clearly dazed, but I leap on him and slam my shield down on him. Then I do it again. And one more time is finally enough to ill him.

_16th, Aaron Pylon, 14 years old, District 3 Male, Shield Bashed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

The boy from District 10 has finally stopped twitching and lets out his last breath.

_15th, Peter Quintana, 17 years old, District 10 Male, Stabbed by REmus Valentino (D2M)_

I close my eyes, confident that the first part of this nightmare would finally end as I stand in the middle of the corpses. I move forward, eyes closed, and stumble into a creek. Immediately my eyes fly open and I begin scouting for a camping spot. It's when I do so that I hear the cannons. 10 more cannons in quick succession. As I sit on the edge of the river bed, letting the water lap over my bloodstained sword, I begin to count on my fingers. How many did I kill?

While the day dwindles on I tear open the bags that I have and dump the contents on the ground. I can only hope that I'm not too much of a threat as the others see it. In the bag I see a small pup tent for shelter, two more water bottles, dried fruit, and perfectly enough a bandage. Without hesitation I move over to the stream as the adrenaline dies down and I paste the bandage over my still bleeding cut. Once again, I sit at the edge of the river, waiting for the hours to transition.

IT's only when I finally decide to lay down on the river bed that I realize I'm going to be undefended. It dawns on me that I may have to set up a fire but that can wait. It's probably too late to do so but I need to make it. As I've never been the best at outdoors activities, I look through my bags to see if anything is available. I find pieces of paper explaining how to start a fire but the unfortunate lack of things to actually start it is unfortunate.

I let out a groan of frustration and begin going through my packs quicker. As I finally tear through the last bag a small square inch lands on the ground and I see some fluid going through it. "Lighter fluid," I say to myself, stifling a laugh. I look at the pieces of paper and set it up in a circle. As I realize that the blaze could spread I hunt through the forest for a couple of rocks.

Lucky for me my brief journey into the woods is that. Brief. I find ten rocks of satisfying size and set them around the pieces of paper. I ignite a fire and keep it going. The smoke shouldn't be too much of an issue, but just in case I put a big dry stick over the fire.

I set up a small pup tent and fuck its light blue. It's not going to provide camouflage.. But a shelter will have to do, and I'm going to have to fight.

I guess I've already been fighting for a while, haven't I?

As night encroaches I nibble on a piece of dried fruit. I don't know how long the tournament is going to last at all so I figure that it is best to ration all my food. In my bag I find a small fishing rod. Are there fish in the river? I have yet to see them. While I sit comfortably the loud Panem anthem plays. I look to the sky and see a parade of faces disappear through the night.

Aurora manages a smile, the three boy gives an angry grimace, the three girl looks forward angrily, the five boy has nothing but fear in his eyes, the six boy looks more confused than anything, the seven boy is still crying, the nine girl looks like she's just stopped crying, both siblings from 10 have a crazed smile and lust in their eyes, the 11 girl gives a determined nod, and both from 13 roll their eyes before the feed cuts off.

Just like that, twelve faces are gone. Twelve humans, twelve kids… they're all gone. I retreat into my tent and lie down with my hands under my head. It's going to be a long night.

It only feels like I've gone to sleep when I hear the sounds of a cannon booming.

_14th, Paul Garret, 18 years old, District 6 Male, Strangled by Taylor Montague (D9M)_

Who died? What happened? I shoot up in bed and check on my bandage. I crawl out of my tent to see that my flame is untouched. I hold my hands out as I keep my sword at a ready position. Ultimately, nothing happens, but I remain awake for three more hours.

The day breaks and I'm blinded by the morning light however briefly. By my count there are 13 tributes left and by some fortune I'm one of them. I stand up and realize that I probably should get moving. Or should I get moving? If I'm next to the cornucopia, which looks like it still has the supplies...not the bodies somehow… then the supplies should still be there, but a person can only survive on dried fruit for long. I bet in some of the packs that there is jerky, but do I want to risk going in there?

Maybe I could hunt. I could hunt for animals if there are any. But there's no guaran-

As soon as I think, a little bunny rabbit tries to eat some grass. I try my best to walk gingerly up to it, doing my best not to make a sound, but it hears something and scurries off. Frustratedly I throw my sword in my general direction of my camp just as a cannon fires.

_13th, Lilah Carrew, District 12 Female, Fell off of a Tree_

I retreat to my camp and grab my sword and shield, newly alert. As I remain on guard I hear the faint sounds of splashing. A fish has flopped onto the dry riverbank. Caught off guard, I move forward to the fish, prodding it with my sword as I remain behind my shield. I haven't seen too many fish overall in my life, and the sudden appearance of this fish may be a trap. That's how they got the rebels in District 2. Tainted supplies. Uncle Fester didn't have to go but..

I snap out of it. I can't be thinking of the past. I have a big family to return to. Half of them may be dead but that means the other half is still worth living for. I take the fish in my hands and make my way to the campfire, putting the fish on a random piece of metal that I find in the bag, and it cooks.

It smells horrible but I need protein. I break into three pieces of dried fruit and eat it as the fish slowly continues to grill. It's not much of a meal but there were days I had to go hungry, so this is hardly anything new. So long as my siblings got fed.

I scarf the fish down and spit out a couple of bones. Honestly, it's not much but at least I have protein. I check in on my bandaged arm to see that it is healing properly. Luckily it is, but I put on another small bandage, it's not nearly enough to cover it but it works. For now.

I sit on the riverbed and wait for time to slowly pass on with my fishing rod. I swear I feel a nibble a couple of times but to my dismay, I fail to reel in anything. It's not like there's anything else to do besides gather up food for the days. Who knows how much longer this game will pass?

Twilight is just about to hit when I hear a branch cracking in the distance. Two [airs of footsteps follow and I bring my sword and shield at the ready. I hide behind a tree and leave my campfire burning. "Who left all this good stuff here?" I recognize the voice as the girl from District 4, Helena, I think.

"The fire is still burning, whoever it is can't be far," another voice, this one Bryson, replies. I get stiffer and prepare for a fight. "Good thing that 6 girls aren't anywhere here."

"I'm more scared of the 9 boy," Helena replies. "But can we just go? We're wasting time and whoever's camp this is be back in a second!"

The boy walks closer and closer to my tree, he must have noticed something, and I bet he thinks that it's something valuable. I have to make a move or else he can kill me. I don't know what races towards me but I swing my sword, and it hits flesh.

Bryson grabs at his neck as Helena screams. She rushes forward and I push her away with my shield and stab her in the stomach. Bryson pulls out a knife and throws it in my direction, its handle hitting me in the thigh. I pull out my sword and stab the girl again before I turn and slash Bryson in the chest. Both of them fall to the ground and I hear both of their cannons not long after.

_12th, Helena Nami, District 4 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

_11th, Bryson Santella, District 4 Male, 16 years old, slashed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

I catch my breath as I look over the two of them. Holding back vomit I decide that I can't stay anywhere here longer. The blood has spilled onto my white shirt and reeks of iron. Fighting back tears I carry my shield on my back and dismantle my tent. It takes longer than I expect to dismantle my tent. All my essential supplies are on my back and I move out into the forest, still sticking to the river as I move downwind.

It's only when I look back that I see what happens to the bodies. A hovercraft deploys its claw and picks up the bodies. First is Helena and her partner follows soon after. I had to kill them, they would ahve taken my stuff otherwise…

The second time setting up camp is considerably easier than the first but I do have to find more rocks. As my fishing rod sits in the water waiting for a fish to bite, I dive in the water and pull out ten rocks for the new campfire. As the fire gets a-going I sit and wait for the fish to bite. The day turns into night with one more cannon boom.

_10th, Grover Coleman, District 12 Male, Stabbed by Olga Patina (D6F)_

No sooner does his cannon go off that I realize that I am in the top nine. The thought barely processes as I hear the nighttime anthem and look to the sky for information. The first face in the sky is Helena, following her is her partner. I feel a strong pang of guilt as I almost miss the face of the District 6 boy in the sky. Following him are the tributes from District 12, who I hardly spoke to at all.

As the nighttime lighting returns I pull my fishing rod out and find that a small fish has bitten. It'll have to do for tonight. I break into my pack of dried fruit once again. It tastes as good as it can get in this hellscape. The day dwindles to a stop and I curl into my set up tent, taking off my shirt as I rest for the night.

The next day I do my best to clean up my shirt in the water. Not all of the blood can go through but I do get the blood looking a little less red and more pink.I leave my shirt drying as I zip up by jacket.

I divide my fruit for the coming days and wait again for another piece of fish. It's after probably the 3rd fish I catch that I decide to look in my bags again. I don't know how I've missed it the first time but a six pack of jerky falls out of one of my bags. While the protein and vitamins help, I begin to crave for bread. I begin to wonder how the remaining tributes will survive. I wonder how I will survive.

No deaths pass in the day as I mull about my relatively tiny camp. When I look at my cleaner white shirt, it is to my dismay that I find that it has shrunken a small amount. It'll have to do and I'll have to wear my jacket zipped up now. It might be a better choice in the end.

After way too long I fall asleep. Is it bad that I actually feel bored right now?

The day breaks and it seems that there are no cannons to fire. I fix my shirt and my jacket as I settle into something of a daily routine. I set my fishing rod in the water and decide to clean my sword and shield. Striping off my white shirt, I rub it against my shield and my sword. As I look on the Shield there is the seal of Panem, an all too familiar seal plastered on loyalist buildings and vandalized on rebellious territories. I may have seen vandalism too many times but the death of many in my extended family have perished.

The shield polishing seems to take the entire day. The sound of another cannon booming takes me out of my rut and I'm taken back to reality.

_9th, Curtis Davis, District 11 Male, 18 years old, Decapitated by Calico Acerola (D8F)_

When the faces pass in the night sky I see that it is the District 11 male. He made it far, I guess, and he was charming in an awkward way. I didn't necessarily hope that he'd survive but if someone else were to win besides me and Juno, I kind of hoped it was him.

Right. Juno, she and I are the last district pair. If they realize that then I might be screwed. Tomorrow I will look for her. She and I can last longer together.

As always the morning light greets me with a garish smile. I roll around in my tent to see that somehow I've lost my white shirt. I might have left it outside, or even in the water, but that shirt has done little for me in the past couple of days. I zip up my jacket and begin to dismantle my camp. The fire goes out when I throw rocks on it and the pup tent goes down easily.

It's when I look through my bags that I find that I'm getting dangerously low on fruit. It's a small loss but if I don't catch more fish then I may truly be starved.

I move upstream. I know it may be tedious to stay with the river but right now I seem to have no better choice. While the seconds tick away fruitlessly, I begin to think about what would happen if I go home. I know I stand a better chance than the others but on the off chance I don't make it, I begin thinking about the other seven tributes. Are they all withering away? Are they thriving like me? Are they allied against me?

Thoughts like that don't do me any good, usually, but it's something to keep away from the boredom of what seems to be a long sojourn. I finally decide to break once I see the moon come out. There's no guarantee that it is the same moon at all but it's small comfort. I know I'm moving tomorrow and I can go one day without fish. I'm getting kind of tired of it myself.

As the moon rises and the Panem seal appears in the sky, the anthem ends but a new voice picks up the tone. "Greetings to the top Eight. Congratulations on making it to the top third of the first ever Hunger Games. To reward you, aa plethora of needed supplies and commodities will be available in the Cornucopia tomorrow at twilight."

And there go my plans for tomorrow. Who will show up at the feast tomorrow? Will we all show up in the feast? That means we can all die. But that means the sooner they die, the sooner this can all be over.

As I fall asleep with my head in my folded up tent, I realize that I do have to go. The sooner the better.

The day comes over and for once I'm not grimacing at the sun. With a sigh I bring out the last of my jerky and scarf it down. If the plethora of supplies comes as promised then I'll be set for a long time. Hopefully not too long.

The trip back to the cornucopia is not a long one. I'm no shrink but I know there's certainly a reason for that. It escapes me but I have better things to focus on. By the time I get there has to be at least one hour before twilight his and the supposed plethora appears. I wait. And wait.

AT one point in the day I decide enough is enough and hide behind a tree. I look to the sky and there still seems to be an hour to go.

So I wait.

And I wait.

I'm about to fall asleep when i hear the whirs of a mechanism come to life and footsteps running into the field. I whip around the tree, shield and sword at the ready, yet no one else appears. The cornucopia, true to what the voice last night said, is stocked to the brim with an assortment of supplies. While I do debate on running away, a picture frame catches my eye. It has the number 2 on it.

Whatever it is, I drop my guard and rush into the cornucopia. In the picture frame is a photo. Mom, Dad, Craig, Wendell, Marshall, Eliza and Bethany, Vanessa, and little Caerus. I step forward into the cornucopia further. There's photos and gifts labeled with a 2 on them. I reach my hand out to grab one and open it. Bread. Just like Dad used to make. There's a photo with it, my Dad and his brother, Uncle Fester, my aunt Sonoma, my cousins, all five of them. There's gotta be more. There's gonna be more.

I stare at the photo for too long. As I do so, I hear footsteps behind me and hear a raspy voice call out. "Remus?"

I whip around with a shout and slide my sword into Juno's side. She looks at me as tears fall out of her eyes and gulps. I stare, horrified and unmoving. She trembles once more, the color slowly drains from her face, and she falls to the ground.

A cannon fires.

_8th, Juno Evans, District 2 Female, 18 years old, Stabbed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

I breathe heavily as a guttural pain slowly rises up my chest. As I open my mouth in anger, fear, shame, too many things to name, I throw my shield into the cornucopia. She deserved to go home!

I fight back the tears as I see, once again, the little girl from District 7. The two of us lock eyes as she backs away like she did, so long ago. I don't make a move as she slowly grabs at the tables. Suddenly a blade appears from her back. She falls forward and the girl breathes no more.

_7th, Daphne Elmer, District 7 Female, 13 years old, Stabbed by Ava Leduci (D5F)_

All I see is red as I rush forward to that simpering, begging, crying bitch of a District 5 girl and run her through with my sword as she did to that little girl. She tries to slash at me but only tears off my jacket. I push her into the cornucopia with my shield and she hits her head with a massive thud. My mind must not be right…. Her head falls clean off.

_6th, Ava Leduci, District 5 Female, 17 years old, stabbed and crushed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

I breathe heavily once again. With an angry grunt I shovel a fuck-load of presents into a bag I see marked District 2. It has Juno's name on it and I dry heave. As I walk out, an arrow whizzes by my head. I grab the arrow from the ground and chase off in the distance, bags and tools clanging against my shoulder. Charm from District 1's blond hair makes him quite visible in the underbrush. He has no time to react as I pounce on him.

He tries to fight back and if he stabs me then I cannot feel it. I punch his head in many times and he begins to cry, like he did in the reaping. When enough is enough I take the arrow and stab him in the eye while he screams. I kick his ribs and he dies a bloody mess.

_5th, Charm Levoisier, District 1 Male, 16 years old, Ribs broken and Eye stabbed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

Again I storm off into the forest, making time to set up my pup tent and crawl in, uncaring of who sees me cry.

The Panem anthem comes out and against my better judgement I crawl out to see it. Charm's smug grin is fading as Juno's solemn but determined face continues to appear for too short. Ava's face shows up, unemoting and blinking a lot, then she goes away, good riddance. Finally it's the little girl…. Whose name I fail to place until her face disappears from the sky.

"Daphne."

Today has been a long day and I am now suffering the effects. I find alcohol in one of the packages meant for Taylor and slather it onto my side. I bite the remains of my jacket to prevent myself from screaming loudly and the alcohol cleans the wounds. I find that there is a slight pain in my arm so I decide to let it rest. Tomorrow will be a rest day.

As the day bleeds I once again settle into a routine, modified because the stream is no longer in sight. I clean my shield and through the polished veneer the faces of all I killed begin to pass by. I push them out of my head. I may have killed them but I cannot feel bad for it. Not yet.

The packages I tear are enough to sustain me with a full meal. I bite into a crunchy carrot, always my favorite vegetable, and I let out a moan of relief. It has been years since I had a literal feast. Warm gravy from a thermos runs down my neck as I bite eagerly into steak. It's a small comfort these days and I may look messy but I don't care.

Just as I bite into the last of the steak, a cannon fires.

_4th, Calico Acerola, 17 years old, District 8 Female, Blunt Force Trauma from Olga Patina (D6F)_

Alert, I grab my sword and shield. In the feast there were no weapons so I just have my sword and shield to work with, but I do have a knife from a while ago that I may or may not have lost. There are no extra pairs of clothing, and these pants are getting restricting. With a sigh, I make the decision to become a seamstress and cut my pants down to shorts.

I strip to my underwear and cut my pants off. My jacket is not going to be much use anymore, which means the nights will be cold, but the best I am able to do is turn them into some sort of zippered crop top. I look at my handiwork and cringe. If my asshole friends really are assholes, I know one hundred percent that they'll make fun of me for this.

I retreat closer to my pup tent, and nothing else seems to happen for the night. The girl from eight swims across the sky one more time and sleep takes over.

All of a sudden, I wake up to a heat that I've never felt before. I head out of my pup tent to find my part of the forest on fire. Screaming vulgarly as I run away, I realize that the only structure left is the cornucopia. I could burn in there but it seems like the fires have stopped as the forest turned into a clearing. As I wait by the cornucopia with my sword and shield in hand, the next person to step out of the forest is the District 6 girl.

She was one of the threats. It was no wonder she made it this far. Right behind her is Taylor from District 9, who seems hungrier but still big and massive. Olga and I look at each other. Taylor and I share a glance. Taylor and Olga realize that I may be the biggest threat. Olga is crazy, Taylor is massive, but I'm lethal.

Not a single one of us makes a move for what seems to be an eternity. Sweat beads down my neck until we hear the sound of a tree collapsing. With a deranged war cry Olga rushes at me as I hold up my sword against her and my shield in Taylor's direction. As I thought, Taylor is not as fast as Olga, and Olga doesn't have fast enough reflexes when I shift my arm ever so slightly.

She runs into my sword with a harrowing screech that momentarily deafens me. I turn to her and find myself punched in the back by Taylor. Taylor kicks away Olga and she crumpes to the ground. She's still breathing but not for long. I focus my shield onto Taylor as he grabs his knife and stabs maniacally. He's strong, strong enough to dent the shield, but I roll away and arc my sword up, slitting him in his stomach. He holds his stomach and launches another punch at me.

This time I'm dazed as I try to get up. Taylor tries to grab me in a chokehold but somehow I outmuscle him and focus my efforts again on Olga, who has stabbed me in the foot. I drag Taylor down with me as the three of us enter a scuffle.

Our limbs tangle in a flurry blood and sweat and even a burn. Dirt and blood passes through until finally I garner enough strength to stand up and slam my shield on both their heads.

Olga crumples. Taylor still moves. I stab him in the throat and he gasps one last time.

Two cannons fire, and then trumpets.

_3rd, Olga Patina, District 6 Female, 18 years old, Shield Bashed by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

_2nd, Taylor Montague, District 9 Male, 16 years old, Stabbed in throat with sword by Remus Valentino (D2M)_

"ANNOUNCING THE WINNER OF THE FIRST ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES! REMUS VALENTINO OF DISTRICT 2!" I fall to my knees onto my shield, crying. I did it.

_Remus Valentino was everything the capitol wanted out of the first victor. He was pulled out of the arena immediately and after six hours of recuperation, he was ready for his adoring fans. Remus, for his part, played the role of a proud and vicious victor during his recap, a role many District 2 and 1 tribute would take in earnest._

_Back home in District 2, an estimated 75% of the district adored him, while 20% of the population remained ambivalent. The remaining 5 percent, led by Juno Evans; heartbroken Fiance Septimus, pooled enough money to stage an assassination attempt on the new victor's life. He fought off the assailant with nothing more than a broken rib. The capitol paid for the execution of three other ringleaders. His family remained strongly knit as ever and would prove pivotal administrative bodies as District 2's first facility developed._

_As he returned to the capitol, in between expected duties as a victor, Remus would mentor 4 total victors out of the arena. Remus took up a hobby of geology and entered a relationship with a future victor that would end in marriage, children, and divorce before marrying a girl back home. Incidentally, Remus was the first victor to be joined by a descendant of his. He would not be the last but as a whole Victor children die five times as much as they do come home. Unlike most career victors, he refused to look down on most victors and was known by many as one of the most welcoming faces to meet after waking up._

_Remus would live a long and happy life, marred by the occasional week-long period of relapse recreating his games. He died of heart failure after a battle against arthritis the year of the 71st Hunger Games. He would be survived by legacies in District 2 and beyond._


	6. Crayfish and Dead Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 02 OF CRAYFISH AND DEAD TREES:** _

_**Name: Duke Kison** _

_**District: 01** _

_Age: 18_

Directed by Justin Matherton (Capitol)

After Remus Valentino's victory it was clear that the Hunger Games was a big hit in the capitol. Remus Valentino made several special appearances to sponsor the latest in Capitol fashion styles and several fitness supplements. His reputation in the Districts was much more polarizing. Many of the lower districts viewed him as little more than a pawn of the capitol, a sentiment that would slowly change as they received more and more victors.

All too soon the Hunger Games came again for the next year. Escorts all across Panem were suitably more reassured when they saw that all across the country. Reapings were more secure due to increased peacekeeper presence, increased camera presence, and a generally more subdued crowd watched most of the reapings take place. Despite the precautions, several scuffles still broke out in Districts 3, 5, and 13. A later fight in District 6 required peacekeeper intervention that night.

Many trends that would become commonplace in the Hunger Games had their debut this year. Beginning with the reapings the first ever Morphling addicted tribute, in this case an 18 year old girl, was reaped from District 6. District 2 seemed to have a respectable showing that could almost bring home the crown again. Other front runners included the tributes from District 1, District 4, District 7, District 8, the girl from District 9, and both tributes from District 13. Incidentally, these aforementioned Districts would eventually grow to be the strongest seven in Panem.

On the contrary, District 3 featured both a relatively strong girl and a weak boy. The boy, though 18, was hardly taller than his 12 year old brother and was just as scrawny. The boy from District 6, though unaddicted, unlike his partner, nearly threw up once his name was called. The girl from District 10 got into a fistfight with the escort when her name was called. The two tributes from District 12 both fainted.

The parades were just as good as the previous one. While District 2, District 8, and District 10 were spectacular fails, District 1, District 7, and District 13 shone spectacularly. Replicas of District 1's playing card costume flew off of the shelves and District 8's sock puppet leader costume would become the punching back of all stylists for a couple of years. This year was also the first reported instance of the District 12 tributes being dressed as miners, another parade faux pas that would eventually come to pass as the years went on.

While Remus Valentino's sponsorship of several supplies were the first instance of the victors having to do services with the capitol, the shopping period after the parade was the first major economic boom. Hastily made playing cards of the tributes would later become a hot commodity in the Capitol. Posters of the tributes would decorate the bedrooms of many adolescents in the capitol, and tickets for the live training viewing were sold out within minutes. Many businesses in the capitol would hold Hunger Games viewing parties and offer discounts. Casinos would alight much like they did last year with odds and bets of their favorites, only this time an actual betting association would come into play

During the three days of training several alliances strung up. The largest alliance was formed between the handsome boy from District 1, the boy from District 2, both tributes from District 4, and the girl from District 7. The girls from District 1 and 2 additionally allied with each other. The boys from Districts 7, 8, 9, and 13 would form something of a pact. Most commonly, many tributes made temporary alliances to get them through the bloodbath as to ensure that no one would kill them.

In front of the gamemakers the highest scorers were the boys from District 4 and District 13, both scoring a 10. Most of the other strong Districts scored anywhere from 7 to 9. The lowest scores of the year were from Districts 6, 10, and 12. One of their tributes each scored a 2.

For the interviews many of the tributes shone. The boy from District 1 garnered a sizeable audience among the teenage girls in spite of, or possibly because of the his homosexuality. Both of Remus' tributes produced respectable showings. The girl from District 3 wowed the audience with her recitation of the periodic table from memory. The girl from District 7 stunned the audience by kissing Gaius Flickerman, cementing her role as a flirt. The tributes from the lower districts mainly remained silent but Flickerman was still able to salvage the show. On the hole the pre games activities were a success and the capitol was excited for the show.

District 1; Male: Duke Kison (18), 9, 12-1 odds; Female: Pristine Caselotti (17), 7, 20-1 odds

District 2; Male: Craig Crestone (16), 8, 14-1 odds; Female: Jacomina Phyllis , (18), 9, 15-1 odds

District 3; Male: Ikona Cisco (18), 4, 52-1 odds; Female: Zirconia Kavelka, (15), 7, 30-1 odds

District 4; Male: Allen Buckingford (16), 10, 8-1 odds; Female: Whirlinda Indino, (16), 7, 56-1 odds

District 5; Male: Ian Peron (15), 4, 96-1 odds; Female: Hellen Perlman (15), 5, 74-1 odds

District 6; Male: Earl Chevy (18), 6, 28-1 odds; Female: Zipper Cazarkian (18), 2, 64-1 odds

District 7; Male: Bryan Alamitos (17), 9, 28-1 odds; Female: Caroline Irwin (16), 8, 24-1 odds

District 8; Male: Raymond Lakshimi (15), 8, 26-1 odds; Female: Allique Cavinato (17), 9, 14-1 odds

District 9; Male: Kellon Anderson (16), 4, 58-1 odds; Female: Alana Litgow (15), 8, 30-1 odds

District 10; Male: Hugh Wolthauser (13), 2, 110-1 odds; Female: Grizz Peyton (15), 6, 30-1 odds

District 11; Male: Durian Malekai (14), 4, 72-1 odds; Female: Drea Kinder (17), 6, 28-1 odds

District 12; Male: Kaedon Quinby (15), 2, 96-1 odds; Female: Ebberly Kim (14), 5, 51-1 odds

District 13; Male: Michael Cortana (18), 10, 9-1 odds; Female: Jenny Spelling (17), 7, 17-1 odds

_**In his words: Duke** _

My stylist looks to me with a resolute face and gives me one last hug. I step into the tube and close my eyes. This year I'm in khaki shorts, a long sleeve black undershirt, and a light green camo tee. It seems like its a better clothing fit than the jacket and the pants they put the tributes in last year. The tube rises and I stop thinking about the clothing and begin to prepare myself for the most chaotic several minutes of my life.

And maybe my last minutes of my life.

The tube rises and I find myself on a pedestal some one and a half feet off of the ground. I look to my left to see the girl from District 6, the morphling. She already looks close to throwing up and she has to hold her hands out to keep herself steady. Bryan from District 7 is on my right. I look at him and he nods. The two of us have agreed not to hurt each other during the bloodbath, but that's about it.

Some three spaces to my left is Pristine, my District partner. Next to her is Jacomina from 2. That's good, she would protect Pristine if all else fails. I look around the circumference and I see Craig some seven spaces to my right. He's not as intimidating as Remus is, but he was still pretty strong. Even as I look around the cornucopia I cannot find my other ally, Allen from District 4.

Before I know it the countdown has reached zero and I jump from my pedestal and dash to the cornucopia. I'm the first one to the cornucopia and head directly into the mouth, confident that the best supplies are located within. As I rifle through stacks and stacks of things, I feel someone brush up against me. "Easy tiger," Bryan says. "Just getting my axe and heading out," he says, grabbing a pack.

As he moves some of his supplies out of the way he knocks over a wooden plank holding up a shelf of swords, knives, and bread. I grab the bread and a sword and begin my hunt for a bag. As I step out of the mouth with a sword some tributes on the outskirts of the cornucopia turn away immediately. A bag is to my left and I scoop it up with one hand, straining because of the heft before I slide it over my back.

The first person to challenge me is the girl from District 9. I slash at her midsection and she jumps away, tripping over the boy from District 3. The boy falls in front of Jenny from District 13 and in fear she whacks him with what looks like a staff, but he isn't dead yet. In the brief second I've focused on Jenny, the District 9 girl throws a clumsy punch at me. I swing my sword and her hand falls off.

She looks at it for a brief second and I stab her in the head.

_26th, Alana Litgow, District 9 Female, 15 years old, Stabbed by Duke Kison (D1M)_

She falls forward with my sword still stuck in her head. Wasting no time, I dive for a different weapon and pick up an axe. It's not what I'm familiar with but it'll have to do. On the outskirts of the cornucopia I see Pristine chased by the strong girl from District 11. She trips and for a moment it looks like the 11 girl has her, but then an arrow sprouts out of the girl's neck.

_25th, Drea Kinder, District 11 Female, 17 years old, Shot in neck by Whirlinda Indino (D4F)_

Pristine's ally, the girl from District 4, runs over to her and gives her a giant blade. It looks like a machete, and runs towards me. It's when a knife flies by my head that I realize that I need to get moving. The screams of the bloodbath increase in volume as more and more tributes get their weapons. I step over the District 3 boy's body and run towards a pile of supplies. It looks to me like there's a tent and some smaller spears. I smile and begin to run closer to it.

While I do so Craig shouts to me. I turn to him and he deals a final kick to the District 6 boy he's been scraping with. The boy falls over with a knife in his chest.

_24th, Earl Chevy, District 6 Male, 18 years old, Stabbed in chest by Craig Crestone (D2M)_

The two of us meet at the pile of supplies. "Any sight of the other threats?" he asks worriedly.

"No," I say breathlessly. "Here, you're better with an axe than I am."

No sooner do I hand the axe off to him that he uses it to chop the District 12 boy in the legs. He falls in pain and Craig pulls out the axe and slams it in his chest. "I do better with spears but… but thanks," he stutters.

_23rd, Kaedon Quinby, District 12 Male, 15 years old, Chopped by Craig Crestone (D2M)_

The two of us each take a spear and run towards the outskirts of the cornucopia. As we run I hear someone chasing after us. Without hesitation I turn with my spear at the ready. To my shock, the District eight boy is running at me with his sword drawn. My spear has longer range and I run through his abdomen. The boy falls down with a whimper.

_22nd, Raymond Lakshimi, District 8 Male, 16 years old, Speared by Duke Kison (D1M)_

Just as Whirlinda walks up to me, she falls with an arrow in her arm. "Shit," she hisses as she turns to her assailant, the girl from District 5. The two of us run at her as the girl flees. Michael from District 13 stabs her as she runs away almost offhandedly.

_21st, Hellen Perlman, District 5 Female, 15 years old, stabbed by Michael Cortana (D13M)_

Out of nowhere a spear lands in Whirlinda's stomach and she falls to the ground. She looks at me to run away as she stumbles up, ultimately and futilely falling down

_20th, Whirlinda Indino, District 4 Female, 16 years old, speared by Grizz Peyton (D10F)_

I look around worriedly and find the District 11 boy trying to chase me. I punch him in the head and he goes down, dizzy before another spear takes him out of commission.

_19th, Durian Malekai, District 11 Male, 14 years old, speared by Allen Buckingford (D4M)_

The bloodbath begins to die down and I reconvene with my surviving alliance mates. Pristine holds a bunch of supplies in her hands and rushes towards me and Allen. She looks for Jacomina as she finishes chopping up the District 12 girl.

_18th, Ebberly Kim, District 12 Female, 14 years old, axed by Jacomina Phyllis (D2F)_

JAcomina rushes up to me, Pristine, and Allen. Craig does the same and we all look at each other, keeping our eyes peeled. "This is where we split?" Jacomina asks. "Whirlinda didn't make it?"

Allen and I look at her with a sad shake and she sighs. "She deserved better than this, we all do," she laments. "Come on Pristine," she says. "Good luck and bon voyage."

"Bon voyage," Allen says. Pristine runs off with Jacomina as Allen, Craig, and I look at each other.

From District 7, Caroline joins us. "I got what I could before the 13 boy and I got too hairy. He went off. I couldn't finish him," she says worriedly.

"As if we'd judge you for that," Craig speaks up. "Now let's get the supplies. It doesn't seem like as many died this time around."

The bodies littering the cornucopia don't seem to be moving and it looks like there were way less of them than last year. "This game seems like it's going to last longer," I observe.

The four of us scatter through the battlefield and pick up supplies. None of us are looking up when we hear Craig scream a gargled scream. I, the closest to him, rush as we see a slip of a boy dash into the forest. Allen chases after him for a brief moment and throws his spear. It pins the boy down and Allen rushes over and stabs him down.

_17th, Ikona Cisco, District 3 Male, 18 years old, Speared and stabbed by Allen Buckingford (D4M)_

I hold Craig's dying body still as I reassure him. He looks at me with disappointment and sadness in his eyes before they close, never to open again. I feel his grip on my die as he slowly leaves the world of the living.

_16th, Craig Crestone, District 2 Male, 16 years old, Throat stabbed by Ikona Cisco (D3M)_

I brush the hair off of his forehead and feel his hand one last time. He's already cold and clammy. With a heavy heart I turn to my remaining allies and pick up the bags that Craig was carrying. "The hovercraft needs to take the bodies," Caroline says tenderly.

"Let's go then," Allen says, picking up two more bags around me. It's when we look at the cornucopia that we decide that the best bet is to stay as close to it as possible, but only after we set up a secondary camp.

When we move we hear eleven shots firing. One less than last time. The three of us glance at each other and find a space in the forest to make camp in. "Does this tree look familiar to you in District 7?" Allen asks as he builds the tent.

Allique, who has taken off her shirt, turns to Allen. "This forest looks a lot more Deciduous than last year. We can tap a tree for sap and then build it for syrup. It's definitely dryer than back home, it almost looks like it's dying."

"Well then," I chime in. "I guess that's good firewood."

A rabbit enters our camp. I creep forward, careful not to make a sound, and capture the rabbit in my bag.

Caroline and Allen smile as they look at the rabbit. "Meaty guy," Caroline says. "Here I'll skin this one, you two just work on getting the fire up."

With the flint in my hand, Allen strikes it repeatedly against the steel of his sword. Once we get a fire going Allen pulls out a metal grill thing and creates a contraption to rest our food on. "We did this all the time with bonfires in District 4. There were always these beaches that every town could take care of."

"And that ended with the war?"

"Believe it or not, the war never really struck close to my home," he says sadly. "We always had a bonfire to remember those who we lost."

"The war never really hit me either," I reply. "Both of my parents went off on the loyalist's army so we were always housed in good housing. It was nice and all but there were 10 families living in a single building, with one bathroom each."

"Hey that's some of the more traditional islands living back home," Allen says. "And I bet in District 1 they had pretty good gyms."

"Well… you're right," I say bashfully. "I spent a lot of my time in that building working out since a lot of things were closed down due to the war effort. I bet District 4 didn't suffer many closures."

"You're right on the money, but we didn't have a lot of the luxury things that you probably had in District one. My girlfriend and I spent a lot of time on her dad's boat."

"Ah," I say, going quiet. "Boats."

"If…" he starts. "But if we ever meet in another life I'll show you around."

"The rabbit is done!" Caroline announces. She presents to us the pelt of the rabbit and chucks three pieces of the rabbit onto the fire. "Well there's the small matter of preserving this."

"I have tupperware in my bag," Allen says. "DOn't ask me why there's tupperware."

The conversation slows as we look at the rabbit cooking. As it cooks, we eat quietly and wait for the night to come, tending to our flames with not a lot of energy. The day finally blends into night as the temperature seems to drop. Caroline starts a conversation with Allen as I focus on the fire and wait for the roll call to begin.

Panem's anthem blares through the arena and all three of us look at the sky. First appearing is Craig from District 2, then the boy from District 3 who killed him, then Whirlinda from District 4, the girl from District 5, the boy from District 6, the boys from 8 and 9, both from 11 and 12. Eleven died today, two by my hand. Allen and I look at each other as Caroline stretches and crawls into one of our tents. "I'm turning in for the night. Unless I need to keep watch."

"No," Allen speaks up. "I got it tonight. If I die I'll be sure to scream loudly to wake you up."

"Well," I say. "Goodnight."

I turn into the tent when Caroline follows. "Can I join you?" she asks.

"Sure," I say, on guard now. She lies down next to me as I wrap my hand around a knife but soon enough she falls asleep, curling next to me and pushing up against me. I look at her, confused, before putting my head back and looking at the ceiling of our tent.

I don't know if I sleep at all during the night but I feel somewhat rested. I crawl out of the tent to see that it's still dark out. Allen notices me walking out and waves me next to the fire. "Two of us can help defend the fire and our supplies," he says pragmatically.

"Is it darker than when we went to bed?" I ask.

"It's probably just your eyes adjusting," Allen says. "Happens to us on the sea."

The conversation dies as I look through a pack for our food this morning. I find a stack of rather flat bread and hand a piece off to Allen, saving a piece for Caroline for when she wakes up. Allen and I begin to talk about what to do when the day actually breaks. The subject of hunting for food comes up but there's no way to store it.

"We might have to hunt for tributes," I say grimly.

"Let's keep that out of our thoughts for now… we did too much killing yesterday," he says, equally as grim.

The silence returns only to be broken when Caroline walks out of the tent, stretching. "Hey boys. I hope you all had a better night than I did, it felt like I was cuddling against a brick wall." Allen and I stare at her blankly as she stretches a little more. "It was meant to be a compliment," she says.

"Thanks I guess," I say as she tosses me a piece of fruit. I crunch into the apple as she talks with Allen about the plans for the day. From their conversation I gather that Allen is going off first and hunting for some food and when he returns then Caroline will go off.

"So then will we move camp?" Caroline asks.

"Sounds like it, we'll come to it when we go to it," Allen says. "Duke do you have any objections?"

"Not really," I say rather placidly. "I'll stay watch tonight since you two are going out today."

"Well," Allen says, "I guess I'll head off now."

He takes his spear with him and walks off into the forest. "Don't go too far!" I yell out.

I stand up and make my way over to the pile of bags we've put on one end of the camp. I pull one bag out and look through it. To my shock there's five more boxes of tupperware, several rolls of bread in a piece of tin foil, and what looks to be a gallon of water. "Caroline," I call. I toss her a roll of bread that she eats rather ravenously. "I didn't think you'd be that hungry."

"After what the Capitol gave us you can bet that I'm starving," she snarks.

"Where'd you learn to skin a rabbit?"

"Back home," she says quietly. "Had to make do. I bet in District 1 they had better food."

"Canned food. Better than rabbit I suppose."

"Debatable," she says quietly.

The conversation dies and the two of us set about on doing things to pass the time. In a smaller pack I find a pocket knife at its bottom, which I stealthy put into my pockets, I hope it'll become useful.

Allen returns with his hands full of dark and dry branches and what looks like a pack of berries. "I didn't find much but we ought to stack up for our new camp."

"So I guess it's my turn," Caroline says, putting her shirt over her undershirt. "I guess I'm taking my knife and this axe. Wish me luck boys."

She heads off with a bag on her back and steps over some logs. "How were you two?" Allen asks.

"Nothing happened, I did find some more tupperware. Did you happen to see any food?"

"Berries," he says simply. "I don't know much about berries."

"Well I don't know anything about them either. Better safe than sorry so we should wait until Carol returns."

"Caroline you mean," he says. "I have an aunt Coral and I don't want nor need that image in my head."

"Fair enough," I say quietly. I sit next to him as he fiddles with a branch, making something of a pointy, pointy spear. "I'm going into the tent to lay down for a bit ince I've got a night watch to go through."

"...go ahead…" he says after much pause. The two of us stare at each other for an awkward minute before I finally head into our tent.

I don't know when I fall asleep, or if I do, but whatever it is I become more alert when I hear Caroline stumble into camp. I peek my head through the door as she strips off both of her tops. "I got into a fight with a boy," she says frantically.

"Hey calm down," Allen reassures her. "Look, it's not that deep, you have nothing to worry about. Do you have any idea who it was?"

"He came at me from the back, I didn't get that good of a sight of him, but I did see that he had paler skin," she explains.

"Sounds like the boy from 10," I chime in. "Let's focus on the wounds, I found alcohol and bandaids for you. Anything else that you saw?"

She shakes her head sadly. "I had a small bird with me but I must have lost it in the scuffle."

"Good though you got out of there. It was a shallow cut but it could have been much worse."

I bring out the alcohol and bandaids and hand it off to Caroline as she hisses. "Lay easy tonight. Duke said he can stay watch. Well rested Duke?"

"Yep," I say. "But we have to move camp, right?"

"After we fix me right up," Caroline says. Once the bandage is on the three of us get to dismantling camp and roll up the necessary supplies in our bags. I wear three, Caroline has one, and Allen has two of them. I take a spear in my hand and make sure that my knife is tucked in my pocket. Caroline has her axe and Allen wields his homemade spear in one hand and his Capitol spear in the other.

"I saw a campsite not too far away from the cornucopia and there was a pond there. I think there could be some fish in there," Allen says. "I'll lead the way I guess."

The two of us trail behind him as he seems to walk quickly. Caroline has to pick up a jogging pace to keep on track with me and Allen through this rather dry forest. I faintly smell a fire. "Did we put out our fire?" I ask Caroline.

"Yeah, I triple checked it," Caroline says, almost out of breath.

We reach the pond quickly and set up camp with our tents on one side of it. There are a lot of trees, a dangerous amount of trees if you ask me, but Caroline relaxes, pointing up. "There's fruit up there," Caroline says. "Tomorrow if nothing happens I'm going to scope out the trees."

Allen strips to his underwear and wades in the water, hunting for something within, and I pace around the pond. It takes me about ten minutes but I see some fish waddling about. Allen finishes wading in the water and comes up with a weird fish thing. He slams it with a rock and reveals thick meaty insides. "Crayfish," he says simply. "Good shit back home. Glad some things never change."

He continues to pull out crayfish after crayfish and I'm only noticing how nice he looks wet. "Need any help grabbing more?" I offer. From the sounds behind me I think Caroline is offering to help.

"There's some reeds on that side, they add flavor to crayfish. I'll grab at least 5 more of these buggers. We should have a good meal soon."

Caroline and I pick up a handful of reeds and combine it with our meager supply of bread. Just as Allen comes out of the water holding five crayfish like a greek god, a rabbit stops to lap at the water. Caroline doesn't miss this one and she kills it easily.

The three of us have a good meal and I can tell that we all almost consider us as friends.

Almost.

Then the capitol anthem plays at night. "Did you hear any cannons?" I ask Caroline.

"No, I thought you might have heard one."

"They just play the capitol anthem on days without any deaths," Allen says. "How do you not know this?"

Caroline and I laugh awkwardly as the capitol anthem finally ends. Last year mandatory viewing for District 1 was only on days with the deaths, and even then we onyl had about an hour of viewing before it was not mandatory. I do know that Charm Levoisier's parents stayed in front of the screens near 24/7. Caroline and Allen step up from their position and stretch, Caroline brushing against Allen's shirtless body for a brief moment, much to her obvious pleasure.

"Goodnight Duke," Allen and Caroline wave me off.

"Goodnight," I reply quickly, focusing on the fire. I bring a bag next to me and wait. It's going to be a long night.

I don't know how long I spend staring at the fire but I begin to think about the people I left at home. Mom and Dad are probably camped out like the Levoisier parents. Prince is probably sleeping right now and Princess may be with her family. I wonder if she even still cares about me. She was the black sheep of the family, I the middle child, and Prince the golden child. Prince and I did spit at Princess when she said she was sleeping with a rebel.

A branch snaps and I grab my spear. I look into the darkness and let my eyes adjust as I see a small figure rummage through our packs. I slowly creep up to the figure and it's more apparent that it's a tribute. I cough quietly and the tribute turns. It's a guy, so either District 5, 7, 9, 10, or 13. He's small so I think he's the boy from District 10. He holds up a dagger and rushes towards me but I keep my distance and he runs into my spear. He falls to the ground before I plant my spear in his chest.

_15h, Hugh Wolthauser, District 10 Male, 13 years old, speared by Duke Kison (D1M)_

The cannon fires and I hear a rustle in the tent. Allen comes out of the tent with a small knife in his hand. "Duke?" he calls out hesitantly.

"It's me," I reply. Allen, not reassured, walks out of the tent and holds his knife at the ready. He looks around for several minutes and then walks up to me. "I think it's the ten boy."

"I think so too," Allen says. "We'll find out later tonight. Was he with anyone?"

"If he was I think I scared him off," I say, letting a little bit of cockiness enter my voice. Allen smiles and pats me on the shoulder, reaching up to do so.

"If you weren't my ally I'd be scared too. Goodnight Duke."

He returns to the tent as I roll his body over. He's clutching a really small pack and I look through it. There's a pack of dried fruit and a water skin that looks nearly empty. He also has socks. Bright pink cotton socks. I almost laugh before I look at the boy. His innocent grey eyes are greyer and he has a small grimace on his face. He looks like my little cousin. I cover his face with a branch and walk away.

The rest of the night is uneventful and before I know it both Caroline and Allen are out. "Allen told me you killed a goon," Caroline says.

"He's right over…" I point in the direction of his body but it's gone, branch and all. "I guess they took him."

"Must have," Caroline muses. "Sounds like you had a long day big guy, take some rest."

"I plan to," I say calmly. She brushes her butt against me and dives into the pond, clearly trying to clean up for the day. I might do that later.

I barely crawl into the tent as I hear a cannon fire. I scramble out as Allen and Caroline leap out of the the water and race to their weapons. I hold my fists in a defensive position and I grab my spear. The three of us seem to stay locked for a moment before we all calm down.

_14th Zipper Cazarkian, District 6 Female, 18 years old, chopped by Pristine Caselotti (D1F)_

"...After you rest, how about we go hunting?" Allen offers.

"Sure," I say, retreating into the tent with my spear in hand. Like the previous days, sleep hardly comes easy, and when I do sleep, it's not enough and I'm restless as I toss and turn.

I dream of the District 10 boy's corpse coming back and slaughtering the three of us as his wide, pleading, crazed eyes seem to expand. He bleeds from his chest and I drown in his blood. I wake up with my spear clenched tightly in my hand as I breathe heavily. I wipe the sweat from my brow as my breath goes back to normal. We lost two today. We're going to have to lose a lot more before any of us can go home.

I break out of the tent and sit next to Allen as he cleans off our crayfish. "Like what you see?" he asks. He gestures to the pile of crayfish meat but all I can focus on is his impressive biceps. He notices me staring and flexes. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for too much in this arena."

"I know," I say. "Good show though. Where's Caroline?"

"Hunting," he says. "If we can find rabbits then we can find chicken or groosling."

I nod quietly while he continues with his cleaning. I'm fairly sure he's cleaned enough when Caroline steps in, a bird slung on her shoulders. "Today was much better," she says.

"AT least you didn't get injured this time," I comment. "Thanks for the bird."

"It doesn't look like we're gonna be able to split this one," Allen says as he stretches.

"No we can, it'll just be thin," Caroline says.

"Caroline you've got watch tonight, you can have my piece," I speak up. "I doubt we'll have another tribute attack you."

"I think I can handle it if it does. I got away the first time and I have that axe over there."

"If you insist," Allen says. If Caroline is insulted in any regard she doesn't show it. Our day begins to slowly drone on and occasionally we talk about lives back home. I learn that Allen actually dumped his girlfriend last year because of conflicting views of the hunger games and that Caroline's brother was one of many who disappeared during mandatory viewing last year.

"You've got a family back home Duke," Caroline asks. "What are they like?"

"Average," I say quietly. "I think my mom lost her estranged sister to a rebel attack and my estranged sister is… she's still alive but I don't know where she is. My twin brother and I are close but because of the war there's only so many times you can see your own face."

"Identical then?"

"Yep."

"That's interesting, I've never seen a pair of identical twins before," Caroline says. "They're always unidentical."

"The term is fraternal," I say. "Twins run in my family, fraternal more than identical."

"Sounds like you've got a handsome brother," Caroline chortles. The conversation continues into the night as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. Our conversation finally ends when the anthem plays. The three of us turn to the sky and we see the District 6 girl was the other cannon of the day. The face of the District 10 boy appears and he looks so much younger in the sky.

"What was her name?" I ask, worriedly. "The 6 girl."

"...Zipper," Allen says after a moment of thought. "And the boy who died was Hugh something from District 10."

"I talked to both of them before I struck up a conversation with you," Caroline says as she curls next to Allen. "And it sucks because I'm gonna have to end this conversation with you two."

"Help yourself to food," I say quietly.

I step up first and lie in the tent, balling my jacket up and using it as a pillow. I leap up as I hear the tent flap opening and breathe a sigh of relief as I realize it's Allen. He crawls through the tent and lies down next to me.

"I bet you've been craving a good night's sleep, huh?"

"Definitely," I nod in agreement. "Tomorrow are we moving camp?"

"I doubt it," Allen says. "As long as the crayfish keep biting we're better than going back to the cornucopia. Also if we keep finding food then we're good. So long as we keep rationing our supplies."

"Hey," I say, sitting up. "Sorry if me checking you out made you uncomfortable."

"Oh no, I actually didn't mind it," he says with a small laugh. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice your butt during training. But...you know this isn't the place for flirting. You're better than Caroline though."

"I thought I was the only one noticing her fliritng with me and you."

"That girl could use a little more subtlety. I hope she learns before… well, before we bite it."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad we're friends," I say quietly.

He lies next to me and I hear him say, "I'm glad we're friends too."

I don't know how long I spend sleeping but what wakes me up is a cannon. I jump up in the tent and hear the sounds of a scuffle just outside. A sense of fear rushing over me, I run out of the tent and do my best to look for Caroline. I find my spear on the ground and grab it before I dash into the forest.

_13th, Jenny Spelling, District 13 Female, 17 years old, chopped by Caroline Irwin (D7F)_

"Caroline!" I shout, running through the pond and exiting our campground. "CAROLINE!"

I hear the sound of footsteps behind me and turn around nervously before I see Allen's brown hair coming out of the district. "Where's Caroline?" he asks.

"ALLEN!" we hear a scream. We dart off in the direction of the scream and find ourselves back at camp. To our shock we see Caroline in a losing battle with the District nine boy off in the distance. He's foaming at the mouth and making deranged swipes that somehow always hit Caroline.

I throw my spear at the 9 boy but he dodges. Allen rushes forward with his spear before he throws it. Caroline gets the 9 boy close to her and throws him in front of her, right in the path of the spear. It connects.

_12th, Kellon Anderson, District 9 Male, 16 years old, speared by Allen Buckingford (D4M)_

Allen and I rush over to Caroline, who is screaming her head off as the body of the district 9 boy falls down. "We got! We got! We got!" she shouts.

She collapses into Allen's arms and cries loudly. Allen brushes her hair out of her head as he guides her to a seat by the fire. I stay in the relative vicinity of the boy and take his weapon. He doesn't have anything else useful around him and I close his eyes before I leave the area. I feel a wind behind me as I make the walk back to camp.

It seems like Caroline has calmed down and Allen is lathering her wounds with alcohol before finding a bandage. Allen looks to me and beckons me to sit down. "It was my first kill…" she moans. "I don't ever want to do that again!"

She collapses into another fit of tears and Allen and I look at each other. Awkwardly, I rub her back as her breath becomes hectic and ragged. "You're staying in the tent tonight. I'll do the hunting for the day. Just… just take it easy."

Caroline looks at me with big brown eyes and nods. She curls up on the forest floor as Allen decides to hunt for more and more crayfish.

I take a spear and a pack of supplies and begin my hunt. As I trudge through the trees it's only then that I realize that the forest is rather dead. Most of the life in the forest is twenty feet high. No sooner do I notice this that a pear falls on my head. I rub my head and investigate the pear. It's big enough for two of us. An idea brews and I throw my spear onto the ground. I pick a rather small tree and decide to climb it.

Almost immediately I'm straining for breath as I climb higher and higher. The fruit seems to be getting bigger and bigger as I scale it. When I reach for a piece of fruit a mass falls from a branch way above me. I dodge it when it drops down and I make a leap towards a bigger, more stable branch. I find that a squirrel high above is knocking down some fruits. I hold my hand out and grab several of them before I climb back down. "Weird," I note to myself.

The last step isn't so much a step as it is a drop down five feet. Some of the fruit in my hand falls down but I recover the rest. The trek back to the camp is a quick one and I choose to put the fruit into my backpack. I munch on an apple just as I enter the camp and look for Allen. Caroline is still on the ground, crying. I offer her a fruit and she takes it quietly.

Allen heads out of the water pulling a giant crayfish and he waves to me. I relax and then he shows me his haul. "Caroline has been making baskets. It helped her calm down for a bit."

"I found fruit," I say matter of factly. I open my pack and out tumbles out fifteen pieces of fruit. "Well we can survive on this for I'd say… two more days before we need to hunt."

"I don't think we need to hunt," Allen readily agrees. "Caroline isn't holding up well."

The two of us turn to her as she looks at us with blank eyes and a small, almost dead smile. "You two are hot friends," she says loudly. "Thank you for being my friends."

Allen and I glance at each other and walk to her, concerned. She asks for a hug and we hug her quietly. "It'll all be over soon," I try to say as reassuringly as I can.

I feel a slight pinch on my butt but I make no movement nor objection. So long as she's still flirting then she's alright.

Both Allen and I try to give her more of our food but she refuses. "Can you two stay in tonight? I don't want to sleep alone."

THere's an intonation to her voice that makes it sound like it's her last request. Allen and I are all too willing to incline as we go through our meals. She's startlingly quiet this time around and our conversation doesn't flow as smoothly as usual. The night time capitol roll call comes and the first dead is the District 9 boy. After him is the District 13 girl. Then the anthem plays out and we go dark.

Allen slings one of Caroline's arms over his and carries her into the tent. I crawl in first and clear a space for the two of them. Allen sets Caroline in between the two of us and it's a tight fit but we make it. Caroline seems to have already gone to sleep and Allen and I follow her shortly after.

I wake up to the sound of a cannon, much like yesterday. I roll over and realize that Caroline isn't in our tent. Allen rolls into me as we both wake up. He races out of the tent and lets out a scream.

_11th, Caroline Irwin, District 7 Female, 16 years old, Drowned_

"Did you hear her go out last night?" I ask him worriedly.

"No!" he shouts. "Why'd she do it?"

The two of us can only stare at Caroline's body as the hovercraft drops his claw over and lifts her away. We wave a silent goodbye to her as we look back to our tent. "It doesn't feel right staying here," I say.

"It doesn't," he agrees. "I didn't see any other ponds but we have enough crayfish in the tupperware."

"Best we can do is just walk off in a random direction. And keep going."

"No looking back," the two of us say at once.

It's a grim day when we take down camp. We have to leave behind the smallest pack filled with trash and miscellaneous expendable items and one of our spears. The two of us are loaded to the teeth and I have to carry the folded up tent. We make a stop at a much smaller and murkier pond. Exhausted I dump my stuff on the forest floor and look up at the sky. "I'll set up the tent then," Allen says reassuringly.

I wipe the sweat off of my forehead and stand up, stripping off my shirt and joining Allen as we fix up our tent. "Did you see anything in the pond?" I ask.

"Gonna check that later. With any luck we'll find more than crayfish. I love it as much as the next guy but I'm kind of tired of that."

"We always have fruit."

"Where did you find the fruit?"

"Up in the trees. Maybe if you're going up there you should have a pack with you. Though I doubt we need it." Allen still sets about climbing a tree next to our new camp with his pack on his shoulders.

I look at the pond in front of me as I see something ripple in the water. With no other option besides joining Allen in the trees or fixing up the camp, I decide to dive in the water. I take off my pants and head into the water. The pond is less deep than I thought. It's waist deep and I can easily bend over, but the fish down in the water evade my grasp. Frustratedly I slap the water and underneath I see a turtle. It's slow enough. I grab it and throw it against a rock like I remember in an old fable.

Just as I throw the turtle against the rock a frog hops out of the water and onto the riverbed. I heard people eat frogs. I run out of the water and chase after the frog, catching the slimy bugger with my bare hands. The frog threatens to hop out but I throw it into our tent, hoping it'll tire itself out. "You look like you had fun," Allen says, coming down from a tree.

"I can see why you like ponds so much now," I reply. "I got us a turtle. There's no crayfish or whatever they're called from what I saw. There's a frog in our tent too."

"...he does know that we're having him for dinner right?"

"I sure hope he doesn't assume that," I retort. "I only caught enough turtle for the two of us!"

He laughs a very charming laugh before he sits next to me, grabbing the turtle out from my hands. "I think you'd better catch our hoppy party crasher."

I reluctantly oblige. From the outside I see the frog jump against the thin fabric of the tent and it telegraphs its movement. I open the tent and the frog jumps right into my hands. I keep it tight and drop it into a piece of tupperware. Allen breaks off some pieces of a tree nearby to start a fire that gets going in no time at all. We put the grill over the fire and the turtle over it. I cut open an apple and offer him a slice.

The day blends into night and the nighttime ambience gives way to the capitol anthem. The only face in the sky is Caroline. She has a flirtatious wink in her portrait and a part of me wants to believe that she kept flirting to the end. Her face disappears and I lean my head on Allen. "We have to do this for her."

"I know we do," Allen says, staking the fire.

"You're not staying up alone," I say before he makes me sleep. "Im' not losing another friend tonight."

"Whatever you say," Allen says, resting his hand on my head. "It'll be a long night."

The two of us sit in silence until the sun comes up. When it does, Allen yawns and pats me on the shoulder. "Thanks for the night," he says. "I'm gonna grab some shut eye."

The capitol never said that the games could be so… draining. The capitol never said that alliances could be so… close. There are ten of us now and the capitol never said that the games could go on for so long. I look towards our tent with a sigh escaping my lips. Allen deserves to go home. He really does but I need to make it home. I have friends, family, a dog even. But Allen has all the girls in the district to go to, not like I don't have all the guys to make it home for. Why are the games so tough?

And if I do make it out of the Hunger Games then what remains? I would have to take over for Falvella as District 1's mentor and join Remus. Many of the kids back at home were taught to fear Remus. Would I be the next object of horrors?

The thought of that horrifies me. Parents over the country would tell stories of me and the bodies…. the bodies…

I dive into the pond and strip myself down, letting the water run over my body and soothe my muscles but my mind is racing and I see Caroline in the distance. I step out of the water and pull my underwear back on. "Looks like you had fun," Allen says.

"Fun is not what I intended," I retort. "I think I'll grab a couple hours of shut eye."

"Not before you take some fruit. I'll do some hunting for food this time. I won't go far," his determined voice echoes. I look at him as he walks off with a spear.

I sit in my tent this time. I fall asleep and dream of Caroline, the boy from 10, the bodies from the bloodbath, and too many more that I've seen in the end. Through my dream I die at least a dozen deaths and my voice is thrown into the whirlwind of many voices. I wake up screaming and it's still daylight. I sit in the tent as I hear Allen mumbling to himself. He's conflicted much like me. I hear him muse about his home life. I hear him muse about my family, his family.

Finally I step out of the tent and see him chopping up some meat. "That's not human meat, is it?" I ask him.

"Turkey," he says. "I found a fish. I thought we might go for some tonight."

"...sounds like a good idea," I say. Much like yesterday the two of us sit next to each other in front of the blazing fire. The anthem comes and goes and our food is dwindling. Neither of us are willing to go to sleep.

The next day slowly creeps up on us like that District 6 girl crept up on that 8 girl, or how that 8 girl crept up on the boy from 9. Or was it 11?

The day is boring. Allen and I resort to talking about the types of homes we live in as we sort through our dwindling supply of bandaids. He get a small nick from a turtle so I put one of our remaining bandages over his hand. It's another day of turtle soup and fruit. We've had a silent day.

The Panem anthem plays and the seal stays up much longer than usual. "Hello tributes," Ouranos Medderland says. "Congratulations on making it to the top ten. To commemorate your survival a feast has been prepared for tomorrow morning at everyone's favorite landmark, the cornucopia! Like last year mementos and supplies are available."

"We're going," Allen says as the seal disappears from the sky. "If we die, then we're bringing someone deserving home."

"One step closer to us getting home, or killed," I say.

"Let's take a small nap then," Allen recommends.

The two of us walk into the tent and lie down next to each other. I don't know what comes over me but I grab his hand and look into his eyes. "No matter what happens, we're still friends. Even if I'm dead, you live on for me."

"Likewise," Allen says. "Good luck pretty boy."

"Good luck you sailor."

We wake up after three hours of sleeping. I hand a spear to Allen and take one to myself. The walk to the cornucopia is a bit of a long one but the two of us make it in good time. The gold of the cornucopia stands out against the dead of the forest. Allen and I lie in wait before we hear the mechanisms come to life just as the sun glints off of the cornucopia. An arrow whizzes through the battlefield and lands on what looks like a giant pillow.

"Both of us together?" Allen asks.

"Two heads are better than one," I say.

The two of us make a mad dash to the cornucopia and dive behind a table. There's a lot more fluffy things this time around. Allen stands up and tears open a particularly fluffy pillow. Out comes… money… and what looks to be small throwing stars as I vaguely recognize them in the arena.

All of a sudden he screams and falls back, tripping over a rather long cylindrical pillow. I rush over to him and get him lying down. And arrow sprouts from the side of his neck and it's clear he isn't recovering from that. "Get what you can," he gets out. "I'll hold out as long as I can."

There are footsteps coming up to the cornucopia and I duck when I hear the whiz of another arrow. It clinks against the cornucopia wall. I snap the arrow and remain glued to Allen. "You're not giving up soon."

"Nope," Allen says, straining. "Just until you get out of here alive."

I look at him with determination through my eyes and stand up with my spear at the ready. I must look intimidating because a boy tries to run away. He bumps into a girl who slashes him in the chest. The boy runs away and then backs into my spear. He looks down at it before flopping on the ground.

_10th, Michael Cortana, District 13 Male, 18 years old, Speared by Duke Kison (D1M)_

The girl looks at me with a look of fear in her eyes before she swings her machete at me. A long but shallow cut appears on my arm but I stab her in the neck with my spear. She throws her machete and it lands in Allen. I turn the spear in her neck and she goes down, gurgling and coughing up blood.

_9th, Zirconia Kavelka, District 3 Female, 15 years old, Speared by Duke Kison (D1M)_

I run over to Allen and hold his hand as his breath grows more and more ragged. He looks at me with the last of his strength and smiles a last smile. "Thanks," I hear him breathe out.

_8th, Allen Buckingford, District 4 Male, 16 years old, Died of injuries from Zirconia Kavelka (D3F)_

I wipe the tears away from my eyes and get his pack off of him. From the District 3 girl I take her pack full of stuff and grab an even smaller bag in my teeth. I hear the sound of something hit metal behind me and I run away, back to our camp.

_7th, Jacomina Phyllis, District 2 Female, 18 years old, Clubbed by Bryan Alamitos (D7M)_

Four cannons fire as I run through the forest. I don't look back.

When I make it back to camp I open the packs. From the District 3 girl's pack comes out twelve small arrows and an equally small bow. In terms of food she has a pack of 10 multivitamins, a dozen croutons, a pack of dried fruit, and to my joy a loaf of still warm bread. Allen's got some of the bandages, some knives that he must have hid, and the tupperware. The pillow has a zipper, which I open to find some mroe bondages, alcohol, iodine, and what looks to be a spare set of clothes. The smallest bag has multivitamins and a pack of cherries.

The effects of the day catching up to me, I lather a bandage on my cut after dressing myself with alcohol. I let out a hiss as the alcohol bubbles and cleans my wounds. I break open the croutons and take two of them and take a swig of water from the pond in front of me.

Night seems to come quickly and the capitol anthem blares through the arena. To my shock the first face in the sky is Jacomina, and it looks like District 2 is not bringing home another victor. The District 3 girl is next, and then after her is Allen. I look at the night sky even as the face turns to the boy from District 13. The sky goes dark and now I'm truly alone.

I don't know when I fall asleep but when I do I dream of Allen on the shores of District 4. He opens his boat to me and we go sail to an island of turtles and crayfish. Caroline welcomes the two of us home and we sit for a long time. A television in the background reveals that Jacomina has ascended to mayorship in District 2.

I wake up with a sense of longing. The day is bright and my fire burns brighter. I head into the pond and hunt for food again. I find crayfish and a small turtle. Again, the day doesn't seem to last long, and before I know it I've eaten and the capitol seal is up in the sky. There are no deaths.

It's tonight I decide to try to sleep in the tent again. It feels so empty without Caroline and Allen. I rest my head on my pillow and look at the sky. The day goes by and no cannons fire.

By the third day a routine has settled. I hunt for turtles, take a multivitamin, drink water, and on this day I decide to strip and clean my clothes. Just as my shirt is cleared of blood, a cannon fires.

_6th, Bryan Alamitos, District 7 Male, 17 years old, Bled out from injuries in combat with Allique Cavinato (D8F)_

I drop my shirt in the water and grab my spear, patrolling the perimeter before finally calming down. There are no further cannon fires for the day. Once the capitol seal goes up I look up to see that Bryan died. His reassuring face appears in the sky one last time before he disappears.

I'll remember him.

The next day is much like the previous one. I eat the last of the croutons and the bread, which has gone stale. One of the tupperware is gone as well. I don't know who stole it or if I lost it, much like I lost one of my shirts. I add another branch to the fire when a cannon goes off. I add another branch and another cannon goes off.

_5th, Allique Cavinato, District 8 Female, 17 years old, Strangled by Pristine Caselotti (D1F)_

_4th, Pristine Caselotti, District 1 Female, 17 years old, Bled out from injuries caused by Allique Cavinato (D8F)_

The day gets colder and colder as I retreat closer to the flames of my fire. When the Panem anthem plays the first face in the sky is another shock. Pristine's sad gaze looks over all of us before she is replaced by the District 8 girl. I count on my fingers who I saw gone and realize that I'm one of the top three, and more importantly, the last hope of the district.

I fall asleep next to the fire. I don't think I'm gonna head into that empty tent for a while. At least the fire gives me warmth.

The next day starts like any other. I take two multivitamins and finish off an apple when the shakes begin. The pond drains, taking with it much of my food source. Undeterred, I grab my bag and my spear and the arrows that the 3 girl left. I begin to walk away when the shakes get stronger and stronger. I feel the ground beneath me give way as I finally decide to break into a sprint, running into a clearing with the District 10 girl.

Immediately she claws at me, grabbing at my shirt and tries to bring me down. She breaks skin on my shoulder and gets my sleeves torn off. Other than that, she's light weight and recoils with every punch that I give her. She leaps back and tries to jump at me before I rear my spear back at her. She dodges my stab to her stomach but I do nail her in the arm. She grabs her arm, distracted, just as the earthquakes start.

A rapidly expanding crevasse appears in our little valley. A look of fear shows up on her face as I kick her into what's now a canyon and she falls down, screaming before I hear her body crack against the rock.

_3rd, Grizz Peyton, District 10 Female, 15 years old, Kicked into crevasse by Duke Kison (D1M)_

The canyon keeps spreading and eats up trees and rocks and soil behind me. Some animals join me as we flee away from the ever expanding emptiness and we wind up at the cornucopia. I dive into the familiar horn structure and catch my breath. I look down my shirt to see that there's a lot of blood going down my stomach. I wince as some of the blood pools over.

All of sudden there's the District 5 boy rolling in. He clumsily slams against the side of the cornucopia and recoils. I could kill him now. I have to kill him now.

I have to kill him now.

I have to kill him now.

My spear flies from my hands and lands his back. He slumps backward and bends in a way that his lifeless eyes now look at me. He's… he's too young!

_2nd, Ian Peron, District 5 Male, 15 years old, Speared by Duke Kison (D1M)_

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are proud to present the victor of the Second annual Hunger Games, Duke Kison of District One!"

I crawl out of the cornucopia to see that the shaking is gone. I look up to the sky to see the hovercraft dropping a ladder. A grim sense of triumph overwhelms me as I cling on for dear life, grateful that I never have to return.

_Duke Kison was seen by many as a respectable follow up to Remus Valentino. Many in the capitol lauded his alliance with Allen and Caroline. After twelve hours of recovery he was deemed ready for a final interview. He was proud and grateful above all else, though he did shed a tear when he saw the deaths of Caroline, Allen, Bryan and Pristine on the big screen._

_District 1 could not be prouder for having a victor. Much like Remus, Duke would become an influencing figure in District 1. He reunited with his sister but never could tell that something was off with her. His mother and father never quite looked at him the same way._

_As expected of a victor, Duke would bring out two tributes from the Hunger Games. His future friendship with District 2's Remus Valentino and future victors would shape the alliances of future hunger games. Duke would have a small hobby of making dream catchers but his main hobby was cooking, demonstrated with little more than an apron and underwear._

_Duke's life would be slightly longer but just as happy as his cohort in District 2. After a decade-long tryst that ended amicably with a future victor, Duke would marry a childhood sweetheart. The two men would have many children, all named after tributes in Duke's Hunger Games, and Duke's efforts to establish an academy would come to fruition the same year his first child, Craig, was born._


	7. Split Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Third Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 03 SPLIT EARTH:** _

_**Name: Paisley Harper** _

_**District: 08** _

_Age: 16_

Directed by Emiliana Matherson (Capitol)

Once Duke came out of the Hunger Games with seven kills under his belt, it was clear that the Hunger Games were the best way to display the most honorable district citizens. Duke joined Remus in advertisement across many capitol sites and made special appearances on some of the most popular capitol tv shows. A friendship grew between the two of them but the traditional alliance that the upper districts would make would not be in play just yet.

The next year was marred with further protests in District 13, District 11, and District 3. A lockdown of a week was instituted in District 3 before the Capitol punished the insurgents. Districts 4 and 5 still remained in Capitol favor as District 4 gained a new industry, sub-aquatic salvaging, and District 5 developed a new way for households to use old fashion for new electricity. Most of the other districts plodded along.

Remus purchased an abandoned schoolhouse close to his home village with the intention of teaching District citizens necessary combat skills and survival skills. It is understood that this is the first Career Academy for the Hunger Games, though as training was illegal Remus presented his venture as a way to optimize peacekeeper training with a small class of but 36 students who would then teach their family members how to thrive.

In District 1, Duke was doing something similar to those he was close to, teaching many of the kids who lived in the barracks he grew up in for the duration of the war. The Parcel Day packages would inspire others in the Districts to pour themselves in their crafts and it is during this time District 1 experienced a minor technological and population boom.

All too soon the Hunger Games rolled around again. The capitol rejoiced and tuned into their favorite districts as 24 individuals took the stage.

District 1 repeated two tributes of blond hair, richer background, and smaller statue. Despite this, they both proclaimed that it was an honor to serve their district. The girl, in particular, captured the attention of the capitol. District 2 featured one of Remus' older students being reaped onto the stage and she grinned maliciously to the camera. Her district partner, a tall and lanky boy, looked on with grim determination. District 3 reaped a small, timid girl who sniffled on stage and her partner seemed to sway with the wind. District 4 reaped two rather respectable tributes, a handsome boy who lived on one of the outlying islands and a stunning girl who often made it to the colder waters with her father.

District 5 reaped two average tributes that stood on stage without trying to cry. In a reverse situation from last year, the male was hooked on morphling (possibly born on it) and the girl was in relatively better condition. The tributes from District 7 were both attractive and strong, expected of the lumberjack district. District 8 featured two rather nice looking but plain tributes, though it would be known that both were hiding rather unique skill sets.

District 9 saw a rather strong boy and a tall twelve-year-old girl, the youngest girl of the year, come from the fields. District 10 featured a hulking mass of a rather unstable boy and a pretty but trembling girl reaped from the crowd. Amidst kerfuffle in District 11, a tiny twelve-year-old boy was reaped alongside a 14-year-old girl who was much taller, but just as skinny as he was. Both tributes, scrawny and underfed, from District 12, tried to run away but were swiftly caught by peacekeepers. The girl sobbed openly on stage as the boy threw up. Finally, in district 13, two rather strong tributes were on camera, with the girl flipping off the camera with an obscene gesture.

The train rides to the capitol were stalled when the girl from District 6 tried to jump out of the train. She was recovered with a broken leg that was healed by capitol technology. It was deemed a suicide attempt.

The chariots were a milder success compared to the furor raised last year. The rather vicious girl from 2 was seen by many as beautiful when she and her partner rolled out in fierce imitations of statues that lined the parade route. District 4 also shined with their minimalistic mermaid designs. A shocking success came from District 7 with the boy dressed as a rather sexy tree nymph and the girl dressed as a rather attractive ax. The technical wonders of District 3, 5, and District 13 produced a rather well-received light show displaying the best of their district.

Unfortunately, District 6, 9, 10, 11, and 12 produced rather bad duds. District 6's tributes were dressed as wheels, District 9's were dressed as actual mugs of alcohol that spilled out and got both tributes drunk, and District 10 was universally agreed to be the worst as no one can make fertilizer sexy. District 11 only provided a relatively better outfit of large and clunky outfits while District 12 were, as usual, coal miners. Little fuss was made over District 1's feather's and District 8's garment worker costumes.

The first day of training featured a rather high amount of tributes socializing, more than in years prior. After seeing the success of Duke's alliance, many of the tributes tried to get themselves into alliances of anywhere from two to four. By the end of training the boy from District 2, the girl from District 8, the boy from District 9, and the tributes from District 13 would all end up in an alliance together, as would the girls from 1, 2, and 4 with the boy from District 4. Many smaller alliances between district pairs have also formed, between District 6, District 10, and District 13. One final main alliance would form between the boys from District 7, District 8, and District 12.

On the second day of training, several of the outliers tried to get into the alliances, only to realize that for the most part, the alliances were rather closed off. Most approached was the District 8 girl, who politely declined any other offers to form an alliance separated from her already existing alliance. The District 2 girl proved herself intimidating and not the least unstable when she lashed out at her district partner for supposedly going against what their mentor wanted. During lunch, the tributes were mostly silent, with the large exception between the boys from District 4 and District 7, who got into a loud argument that greatly annoyed their alliance mates.

The final day of training came with the training sessions. The girl from District 2 scored the first-ever 11 through a display of combat with a heavy pack and two different weapons. Her partner, the tribute from District 4, the tributes from 7, the tributes from 8, the boy from 9, the boy from 10, and both from District 13 all did rather well. The worst scorers of the year were the two Morphling addicted tributes from District 6 and the boy from District 11, both scoring a 2. A rather interesting approach came from the District 3 male, who rewired the panel for the edible plant station to display his face surrounded by victory. Another noteworthy approach came from the District 9 girl, who accidentally set fire to the pool. The gamemakers were so impressed they gave her a six. It was the highest score for a 12-year-old in the first 49 years.

Interview night came and it was clear that the upper districts were the stars of the show. Despite her violent demeanor, the District 2 female easily became a crowd favorite. The boys from Districts 4 and 9 and the girls from 1, 4, and 7 were this year's eye candies, though every tribute over the age of 15 had a fanbase. The girl from District 8 impressed many with her humble and relatable anecdotes, the girl from District 3 shocked her fellow tributes with all the gossip from the training center, and the boy from District 13 wowed the audience by reciting the periodic table of elements perfectly. Yet in spite of all the glamour, duds persisted. The girl from District 1's clothes fell down, exposing her to the audience as she ran off stage. The boy from District 5 could hardly get a word out as he cried. The girl from District 9, when questioned about her six, merely replied with a blank stare and profuse apologies to the gamemakers. The girl from District 11 did get the audience laughing, but it was only when she swore live and hastily tried to cover it up.

As a whole, this year's Hunger Games was all over the place, but hopes were high for the District 2 tributes, the district 4 tributes, the district 7 tributes, the tributes from 8, the boy from 9, the district 10 boy, and both tributes from 13. As the other Hunger Games exhibited, surprises could have been in store.

District 1; Male: Russel Walton (15), 6, 64-1 odds; Female: Tama Cabronna (17), 9, 15-1 odds

District 2; Male: Nigel Tenzing (17), 8, 16-1 odds; Female: Aaliyah Zion (18), 11, 9-1 odds

District 3; Male: Buzz Gavriloch (14), 5, 72-1 odds; Female: Elisha Transma (13), 3, 82-1 odds

District 4; Male: Lachlan Brist (18), 8, 20-1 odds; Female: Klio Schellton (17), 10, 10-1 odds

District 5; Male: Benjamin Cutter (14), 5, 68-1 odds; Female: Anna Dixson (16), 6, 40-1 odds

District 6; Male: Evan Lindberg (13), 2, 120-1 odds; Female: Patricia Curri (14), 2, 110-1 odds

District 7; Male: Zephyr Axelrod (16), 9, 16-1 odds; Female: Jana Quince (17), 7, 28-1 odds

District 8; Male: Derrick Breen (15), 8, 24-1 odds; Female: Paisley Harper (16), 7, 32-1 odds

District 9; Male: William Abrahamian (16), 7, 28-1 odds; Female: Clara Bludworth (12), 6, 60-1 odds

District 10; Male: Timothy Holstein (17), 10, 10-1 odds; Female: Agnes Bakken (16), 6, 50-1 odds

District 11; Male: Morgan Gaura (12), 2, 144-1odds; Female: Laurel Stonybrook (15), 5, 72-1 odds

District 12; Male: Dylan Lacer (18), 5, 80-1 odds; Female: Mae Kalona (14), 4, 96-1 odds

District 13; Male: Ignat Schweitzer (17), 8, 12-1 odds; Female: Dorothy Clearway (17), 7, 36-1 odds

_**In her words: Paisley** _

Right on time the pedestals lift up into the arena. A small cloud of dust begins to swirl in the center of the cornucopia battlefield before the dust moves behind us all. I bat away at the dirt before it can really do some damage to my eyes. The dust clears and Ouranos Medderland announces the start of the Hunger Games.

60, 59, 58, 57. What luck, I'm next to the high scoring, muscular, and above all intimidating boy from District 10. He's gonna feel right at home in this dirt filled arena.

51, 50, 49. Better luck is to my left. I see Dorothy directly to my left. She and I lock eyes and she points to the cornucopia.

39, 38, 37, 36, 35. It doesn't register until I look at it. Most of the supplies are at the mouth of the cornucopia. It forms something of a wall that looks incredibly hard to break through. I see the girl from District 1 gesture to her partner somewhere across the battlefield. This time the cornucopia obstructs the view of the others.

15, 14, 13. There's no time left to look for my other allies. Dorothy and I are together, we'll look for William, Ignat, and Nigel later.

10, 9, 8. Avoid Aliyah. SHe's unstable, obviously.

7, 6. Run to the cornucopia and fling yourself against the wall. No. There are still supplies on the outskirts and it's better to look for the scraps and make do. You don't need the pick of the litter.

3\. Dorothy's gonna run to the center.

2\. William's gonna do the same.

1\. I leap from the pedestal. I hope I haven't miscalculated.

0\. The countdown ends just as I touch the ground. A second later I would have been blown to bits like that district 3 girl. The sounds of another landmine make it sound like someone else mistimed their jump.

_26th, Morgan Gaura, District 11 male, 12 years old, blown up by landmines_

The dust swirls around the battlefield, halting many of our approaches to the cornucopia. I try to stay low to the ground and crawl on my hands and knees to where I remember the backpacks to be. My hand fixes on something. I curl my fingers around the item and it's tight. Perfect.

Finally the veil of dirt begins to slow down and settle and I can see that Aliyah and the District 12 girl are next to the cornucopia, trying to break through the wall of packs. A look of fear goes on the 12 girl's face and then Aliyah throws her through the wall. I can only hope that the girl is alive as I look around the edge of the battlefield.

A knife whizzes above my head and lands just where I was five seconds ago. It looks like Tama has gotten her hands on some knives and she's targeting me. I run away in the opposite direction and find a medium sized backpack. A water bottle hangs haphazardly out an open flap. I throw my tight cord inside and slam the backpack shut.

_25th, Anna Dixson, District 5 female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Tama Cabronna (D1F)_

Dorothy avoids Aliyah and slides next to me. The shoes we have on aren't doing any favor with the traction on dirt. "How much more do you need?" she asks, out of breath. She holds out her knife and swings it into a boy trying to run into us. He doesn't fall down but he's tackled by the massive District 10 boy.

_24th, Buzz Gavrilovich, District 3 Male, 14 years old, Neck snapped by Timothy Holstein (D10M)_

Dorothy and I run away and bump into William. He looks at us with a sigh of relief but it disappears as the District 11 girl charges at him. I step in between the two of them and find myself being thrown against the ground. I dodge her frantic stabs as William lands his scythe into her back. I kick her off of me and the three of us keep running.

_23rd, Laurel Stonybrook, District 11 Female, 15 years old, Stabbed in back by William Abrahamia (D9M)_

"NIGEL!" I shout out as we run. A boy's head turns. It's Nigel. The momentary distraction is almost enough for the District 1 boy to stick a knife in his neck, but he rolls away and turns his own knife into his eye. The boy stumbles and throws a futile punch before falling over.

_22nd, Russel Walton, District 1 Male, 15 years old, Eye stabbed by Nigel Tenzing (D2M)_

Many of the tributes are also fleeing from the cornucopia. Nigel sneaks away from Aliyah as she swings a sword into two tributes at once. One of them manages to get a couple of steps away before the girl from District 7 lands an arrow into his head.

_21st, Patricia Curri, District 6 Female, 14 years old, Slashed by Aliyah Zion (D2F)_

_20th, Evan Lindberg, District 6 Male, 13 years old, Arrowed by Jana Quince (D7F)_

Nigel slides over his feet and I rush over to help him. The two of us dodge a thrown spear from the girl from District 4 but he takes an arrow to his calf. He falls to the ground but grabs another pack. I hold my backpack over him as Dorothy and William call to us. The person who fired the arrow is running towards us, quickly. It all happens so suddenly.

I pick up a rock and throw it, landing directly in between her eyes.

_19th, Mae Kalona, District 12 Female, 14 years old, Stoned by Paisley Harper (D8F)_

"It's fine, It's fine," Nigel says after catching his breath. I let him lean on me as we hobble out of the arena battlefield. A boy screams in the distance as we hear horrendous banging on the inside of the cornucopia.

Dorothy and William take Nigel and the three of us keep running past what looks to be rocks. The four of us roll down what seems like a 30 degree incline. But we're away from the bloodbath. "Let's rest here," William recommends.

_18th, Ignatz Schweitzer, District 13 Male, 17 years old, Savagely beaten by Aliyah Zion (D2F)_

We curl under what looks to be a cliff face. In the distance there's a small pond and a tree. "Camp here?" Dorothy suggests.

"Camp here," the three of us agree.

Just when we begin to catch our breaths we hear the cannons. Nine of them this time. Three less than the first year and two less from last year. "We may be in it for the long haul," Nigel laments. "And I'm fucking crippled after the bloodbath."

"There's gotta be something in our packs to help you," Dorothy says tacitly. "...I hope Ignatz is alright…if he were here we would have you raring to go in a Massachusetts Mashpee minute."

"Speak English please?" William asks.

"A Saying back home," Dorothy says dismissively. "Paisley, what do you have in your bag?"

I look through my smaller pack briefly. "A six pack of disinfectant wipes. A diaper? A baby bottle? A condom? What the actual fuck?!"

William yanks the bag out of my hands and empties the contents out. "...at least we have bandaids… and powdered milk… and baby formula… and… okay I think one of the gamemakers is on maternity leave."

"Congratulations," Nigel says. "Please don't tell me the wound needs me to put a fucking diaper on."

"The bandaids we have are big enough in that one. What did you get?" Dorothy asks.

One by one we open the packs. Nigel opens the smallest of his three packs to find a frying pan, a lighter, a grill, a knife, and what looks like multivitamins. Dorothy opens up her massive duffel bag and out pops a camouflaged tent, three blankets, very flat bread, three water skins, a bottle of iodine, plastic bags, and a giant inflatable raft. "Well if the tent falls we can always use this as shelter," she says optimistically.

She puts her supplies to the side, already sorted. William opens one of his medium sized pack to pull out a thermos that feels hot and smells like tomato stew, tea cups, croutons, jerky, and dried fruit. I open up my bigger pack, knowing at least two of the contents within. I pull out the tight cord and the water bottle without further thought before I open the main compartment. I pull out no less than three sleek boxes and two smaller, grapefruit sized water bottles. Other than that there's nothing. In one box is a hammer, in another is a throwing knife, and in the last is a weird flute thing. I put my mouth to it, expecting a whistle, but nothing comes out. "Just my luck," I throw the weird flute into the bag.

Nigel opens up the middle of his three packs and pulls out a small bottle of water, multi-vitamins, a small pack of bandage tape, and a cup full of strawberries. He digs in his pack a little more and pulls out a massive fruit. "How the hell did this fit in here?" It's a big, heavy thing that he passes around to us. "But at least we have a melon."

William opens his bag to find a pregnancy test in the shape of a bear. "THis is getting ridiculous," he says, staring at the bear's lifeless eyes. Also in his pack are iodine tablets, apples, and what looks to be a small weapon. He looks over his pack and out falls socks and tighty whities. "You know now that I mention it, did the tributes all deal with only one set of underwear?"

"We'll solve that problem when we get there," Nigel says. "I mean knowing me a thing that size is still gonna be too big for me." Awkward silence ensues as he slowly opens up the bag to find a case full of glasses. He puts them on and hands the other pairs to each of us. Below the case looks to be a book of weaving techniques. In the book is a box of matches and what look to be gloves. There's also an orange, some kind of yellow juice, more iodine, and cans of what look to be tuna. All of us pale when he pulls out what looks to be a telescopic spear that folds up.

"Nice," he says quietly, before putting the spear away. "And there's some clothes...alright I don't need this sports bra. The clothes in here are just fine."

He rests himself on his bag and looks to his calf and flexes it. I curl my lips in appreciation as he rolls his pants down. The four of us sit in a circle for an unfathomable amount of time before Dorothy grabs the raft. "There's water over there, worth checking out." She doesn't walk too far before she stops, looking down. "Shit."

Nigel, William, and I walk over to her. What we thought to be a nearby water source turns out to be separated by what looks like a deep crevasse. "The gamemakers certainly are creative this year," William muses. We look around and don't see any clear way of getting across.

"Let's hunt for a way across," Nigel says.

"Why?" I ask.

"I don't feel comfortable being without a water source," he explains. "This year might be the first people die of dehydration and I don't want my cannon to sound because I was thirsty."

We all oblige and hastily pack our shit up in the bags and walk off. No tribute should attack a group of four, right? The walk is long and boring and hot so we all talk to each other to bide the time. This year's outfit helps out with the heat, t-shirts and cargo pants. Our shoes barely do much for traction but we have each other to keep up.

"It's getting dark," William points out, glancing to the sky. We've been walking for long. He points to a cliffside that juts over and provides shelter on the back of us. "We have the matches, right?"

"Yep," Nigel says. He pulls out his book on weaving tips and the matches. "If we had more sticks then that would help."

"I saw some rolling plants a while back. William do you think they're flammable?"

"They're tumbleweeds, they're flammable," he replies with a glazed look in his eyes. "It'll have to do. Dorothy, Nigel, wanna set up camp?"

Dorothy puts down the raft she's been carrying and takes one of Nigel's bags. The two of them converse as me and William head away. "I'm not the only one ho sees something between them, right?"

"Yes, yes you are," I say bluntly. "You okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"Not really," Will says. "I'm just too sensitive. Tumbleweeds burned down my house when I was like 3. Then they killed a friend of mine when I was 13. They were on fire."

"I didn't think District 9 was flammable."

"It's just as flammable as any other district. Look, there's a couple." The two of us rush over and leap onto all of them. They're prickly and they drop seeds on the floor. "LEave the seeds. We may need to use them later."

With two weeds in my hands and three in William's we walk back to the camp where Dorothy has used the side of the raft as one part of our shelter and Nigel's tent as another side. The cliff face makes another and the fireplace is in the center of what we think to be the fourth wall. We slide in and reveal our haul. "I'll just put those two in the middle. Nigel, your matches?" Dorothy gestures.

While grunting Nigel rolls over and tosses his bag. "STand back," I instinctively call out. Dorothy lights a blaze and the tumbleweeds catch fire. It should last for a bit.

The four of us begin to talk about how we kept warm in our districts during the troubling years when night falls in the arena. We convince William to open up his can of tomato soup and we all take a small tea cup of the liquid. I open up one of my pieces of flat bread and we split up a quarter of it. It's a small meager meal but no matter how much food we have it has to last.

The meal is surprisingly filling. We turn to the sky to see who bit it. The boy Nigel kid is first, Russel from 1. He tried to get me into an alliance. Next is the boy from District 3. I saw the ten boy kill him. It was a nightmare. The girl from District 5 is next, then it's the tributes from District 6- I remember those two, killed quickly. The next face in the sky is the boy from district 11, I wonder if he was the one who jumped off of the pedestals, and then his partner, who William killed. The girl from District 12 is next and… I actually killed this one. I gulp as I remember her three starving cousins back home. The last face in the sky is Ignatz.

Dorothy stifles a noise of pain and we all turn to her as the Panem anthem runs out. "I never… I never told you guys this," she starts. "We dated for a year. I gave everything to him, and now he's gone."

Nigel puts a reassuring hand on him that Dorothy accepts after a long gaze into Nigel's eyes. "It was the bloodbath, he must have gone quickly, if it's any consolation."

"Just enough," Dorothy says after staring into the fire. The raft falls over and she lets out a quick yelp. "Paisley, can we use the wire to keep the raft up?"

"Well it's a tight cord, but sure," I say. "I'll keep watch since this is gonna take a while."

The three of them give noises of affirmation and I move out of our little enclosure with my tight cord in hand. The three of them begin to talk and I realize how much I miss what little privacy we had in the capitol. Though I suppose that I at least didn't have to share a room the size of our flat with my three younger sisters.

I creep over to the edge of a canyon and almost throw up. It's a long, long, long drop downward. SEtting up the raft won't take long so I tie a rock to the end of my tight cord and lower it gently. About half of the tight cord is used. That means there's anywhere from 15 to 50 foot drop. Anywhere from survival but sketchy to survivable but mega sketchy…

Or dead.

I pull up the rock and the tight cord. I don't know if the rock will be of use so I just let it fall to the ground. I look back to my alliance to see that they're just talking, and talking, and from the looks of it Nigel is sleeping. I run the time through the loops on the raft and find a good part of the cliff face to fix it on the rocks. The raft stays up even as the winds pick up. Satisfied, I walk around our encampment and close it off with a tight cord, making sure not to put the tight cord next to the fire.

"Was it hard?" Dorothy asks quietly.

"Nope," I reply. "Did stuff like this back home, hanging clothes lines from building to building, making sure they're tight, it's surprisingly easy."

"Good," Dorithy says, staring at the fire. "I smell the rain. I hope Ignatz smells it wherever he is."

I watch her as she goes to sleep. It's going to be a long night.

What wakes me up the next day is the sound of a ravenous cat, tangled up in the tight cord. The four of us back into the cliff face and look at the cat, all tangled and all choked up and in the throes of its death. "How'd you do it?" William asks, awed and fearful.

"...I didn't," I reply quietly.

The mountain cat claws at the inflatable raft but it misses, falling onto the ground a pitiful wreck. Quickly, Dorothy and Nigel are the ones to run and stab it. And stab it. And stab it. I'm half expecting a cannon to boom for the poor cat. "Did you guys see anything like that in the past games?" Dorothy asks.

We look at each other, then to the lion, then to Dorothy. We all shake our heads. "This games just got a whole lot harder," Will says. "Anyways, I think we're good on food...and if we want to eat some...cat for breakfast, or lion, then I think we're safe. Right?"

"Right," Nigel speaks up. "I'll take care of it."

He grabs a knife and cuts open the mountain lion with such grace, finesse, and speed that I have to recoil in disgust as the blood splatters. The smell of iron is only masked by the rain. "Quick!" I yell out. "Where are our bottles and cups?"

Will tosses me my two grapefruit sized bottles and they fill up in no time. "Do we have anything else?" Will asks. He rifles through the pack and dumps out his tomato soup into the tea cups, finding that we have just enough tomato soup for the four tea cups we have. He fills his thermos up with water and that's all we're able to take before the rain stops.

"Fuck," Will shouts. "I don't suppose we can use that… that wildcat's skull for rain next time?"

"It won't hold much," Nigel says. "We're better off drenching the fur in water and using it as a water skin."

"So why don't we do that?" Dorothy inquires.

"The skin is filthy," Nigel says quickly.

"We'll figure it out when we get there. Obviously this place isn't safe so I think after we eat we should move," I suggest.

"But if there was one mountain lion there's no guarantee that there aren't others," Nigel says as he waves a mountain lion's rib. "Also this lion is pretty malnourished so we aren't getting much meat from it."

"So long as we have a couple," Dorothy says. "Let's just have mountain lion today. We can go with two meals per day, right?"

"I have one hundred and twenty pieces of multivitamins. I'll give you all one each," I offer.

"We can also split up one of my oranges," Nigel says. "And we have that ungodly melon to deal with. WE're good on food."

"I know," Dorothy says, lips curled. "But how much longer?"

"These games could last for a while but it's better to be strong now than weak later. Our strength should carry us," Nigel says.

We get a fire going after Nigel finishes. He's right. The four of us munch on roasted cat and multivitamins and drink whatever we can. "I'm going to relieve myself, Nigel can you watch my back?" William asks all too bluntly.

"So long as you don't stab me," Nigel says half-jokingly. The two boys go away as we dismantle the camp. I roll up the tight cord and stick it in my pocket, somehow getting all the tight cord into it.

"Do you think Ignatz died thirsty?" I turn to Dorothy as she finishes up folding the raft. "I don't think so. He probably would have been able to still feel the water. The water. He was gonna go back home to his new girlfriend, supposedly. That was his plan. I would have made it back to my girlfriend if it were up to me. How about you Paisley? Any girls that you have to fight for? Or is it a boy?"

"I've never been in a relationship," I truthfully say. "War and school took up most of my time. Though I wouldn't mind going for someone taller than me. That means he can protect me. I'm not into girls so don't try anything funny." I laugh to myself as I realize that she's hardly listening to me. She takes down the tent and kicks away the tumbleweeds.

Nigel and William return before too long and we throw William the tent. All four of us grab our supplies, leave the bones of the mountain lion behind, and trudge off into the rest of the arena. Yet again, we come across a cliff face and set up camp using the face as one side.

"I've got the shift tonight," Nigel says. "I was already useless with that arrow to my calf." He flexes his calf and I lick my lips, hoping it goes unnoticed. "Anyways Paisley can you do that set up with the tight cord? That was clever what you did and if I ever nod off then I want another line of security for us."

I nod quietly and set up the tight cord across the camp we've chosen. "Have you heard any cannons today?" Dorothy asks.

"No I haven't," William replies. "I guess we're all still alive for the day, huh?"

Nigel curls his lips and looks at all of us silently as he takes a perch. "Something wrong Nigel?" I ask.

"William and I caught a dude trying to jump us. He slashed him but the douchebag ran away. I guess the wounds didn't kill him. We probably should have been able to get him. Unless he gets healed. Hey Will," he calls out. "Did you catch his home District? Or anything he looked like?"

"Beats me," Will says. "I think it was either District 3 or District 10. If he hadn't caught you when your pants were down then-"

"I KNOW!" Nigel snaps.

"...I was just gonna say then we both could have got him," William says. "What's gotten into you?"

"I just…" Nigel starts. "Never mind, maybe I'm just anxious about this fucking arena."

Neither of the three of us push it any further.

Night comes and so does the national anthem with its seal. No deaths today. The four of us sit around the campfire and exchange stories about our old neighborhoods. The conversation is stilted and all of us are more focused on the fire and the outside. "I'll leave my bottles outside in case it rains again," I say.

"Hey," Dorothy says. "Can I get one more swig of that?"

William and Nigel watch us intently as we hand off the small water bottle. I shake, nervous, but Dorothy grabs the bottle out of my hands and takes a gulp of water. She gives it to me and I open the bottle and leave it outside. "We still have the iodine, right?" I ask.

"Yep," Nigel gruffly says. "Watch out for the tight cord."

"Right," I say. "I'm heading into the tent. Good night everyone."

"Goodnight," I hear them all say. I don't know what it is, but they all sound so different. Has a day changed them all already?

I shake off the notion as I go to an uneasy sleep, curling to the smaller side of the tent as I roll and determine if it's better to sleep on my side or on my back or with my front towards the tent flap. Like usual, I don't dream. It's just a blank slate of nothingness. I'm aware that the ground is terrible as I roll to sleep, but yes, I am asleep through the night.

The day breaks and I find myself curled up against William. He wakes up the same time as I do and pats my head quietly. "We're moving today, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, let's get a head start on that, after we let Nigel get a couple of hours of sleep," I recommend.

The two of us crawl out of the tent quietly, making it so that we don't wake up Dorothy, and see Nigel sitting, his eyes half closed but looking at the dying fire. I poke Nigel quietly and encourage him to move him to the tent. "Huh?" he replies, looking like a humanized version of death.

"We're dismantling camp," Will explains. "Get some rest in the tent with Dorothy."

"Nope," Dorothy says, stepping out of the tent. "I'm just here going to help the two of them dismantle camp, and don't worry, we'll let you get your beauty sleep."

Nigel looks at us and grunts quietly. He crawls into the tent and goes to sleep, out like a rock he probably mined in District 2. As we clean up camp I realize I can't find one of my water bottles. I take down the tight cord before looking around the rest of the camp. In my haste I tip over a bottle of water, spilling its contents down. Luckily, no one saw it, so I keep cleaning up the rest of camp with William and Dorothy.

After what seems like five hours, William decides to wake up Nigel. The sounds of a discussion holds up and Nigel walks out with a weird mark on his nose. "Did you and William fight?" Dorothy asks.

"What makes you think that?" Nigel asks. "I'd totally take him on in a fight, and I'd win at that."

I point to his nose and he licks his finger before wiping at it. The mark disappears and he shrugs. "I've gotten dirtier before," he snipes.

"Well in that case you can take down the tent," William says as he steps out, lightly punching Nigel with no love lost between them. "We're already burning daylight you know."

The four of us look to the sky, I don't know what makes us look to the sky, but it's clear. "No rain," I note. "Hey was there any last night?"

"Nope," Nigel says. The conversation dies and we walk off.

Another encampment is set up and scouted. We set up the camp in record time just as night falls. Again, no deaths. I wonder if there have been as many days with as little deaths. I've gotta wonder if the capitol has experienced a period of time in the games without as much death.

"Nigel," William speaks after finishing the bread we pass around. "Have anyone back home?"

"Just me and my dog," Nigel says rather sagely. "I've either not met the person I want to meet or I hate dating."

"Have you just tried girls?" Dorothy asks, curious.

"One of my uncle's girlfriends had a brother who was into me. We went on like 3 dates before he cheated on me. I… honestly didn't care," Nigel says placidly. "Even if I were in a relationship with someone I'd be willing to be in an open relationship. That's only if they tell me. ANd i think I'm straight."

"How do you know if you like guys or girls?" Will asks.

"Sometimes you just like both," Dorothy chimes in.

"Well, my mom said it was weird for her. She dated like 6 guys and was the biggest heartbreaker in her block," I start. "Then my momma punched her in a fight because both of them were dating the same guy. In the medical room they kissed each other. Then they dumped the guy and gave him an atomic wedgie. Ironically he became our landlord."

"Yeesh, I didn't know District 8 was that crazy," Dorothy says. "Here in District 13 you're LGBT and that's it."

"What does the T stand for?" Will asks.

"Trans," both Dorothy and I fill up. "But it's complicated," I continue. "I thought when my sister shaved the entirety of her head she was trans. She wasn't, but she dated a woman like both of my parents."

"I thought your sister was straight," Nigel says.

"Oh no, my oldest sister is a big fat lesbian," I laugh. "My second oldest sister and my four younger sisters are all straight."

"So you're in a tribe of… 9 girls?" William asks. "I can barely tolerate my sister on the worst of days. How bad are your worst of-"

"That's a woman's secret," I interrupt. The four of us share a laugh for the first time in forever and we all yawn.

"I got it tonight," Will says. "I didn't do anything yesterday so I might as well."

Nigel, Dorothy, and I all wind up lying down in the tent, somehow being all able to lie down next to each other. Tonight I do dream of my parent's history except everything is on fire, of my siblings and us talking about the district and the easiest way to deal painless deaths. And then there's the cute victors coming to our districts and trying to teach us respectfully. My dream lingers on the face of that cute Remus as he apologizes. I do remember being the only one applauding for him on my apartment floor.

I wake up sweaty. I guess that the arena has been getting somewhat warmer. Speaking of warmer, we need some more cool water, right? I can only hope that the rain comes quickly. Both Dorothy and Nigel are still fast asleep...and for that matter, dry as a bone. I guess that dream took a lot more of my energy than I thought.

I step out and find William playing with his fingers and fiddling with his tongue. Better than the alternative but still weird. He looks at me with a sad shake, as if he knows the question I'm about to ask. He's sweating too, so it's bound to be a hotter day. "Let's keep camp here," William says.

"I'm too tired to move anyways," I reply. I sit next to William as we just stare out into the distance. Slowly but surely we're joined by Nigel and Dorothy. I don't know how long we're staring at the distance but as the sun reaches midday we eat. We steer clear of the jerky and look at the dwindling supply of water in the thermos.

Then the cannon goes off.

_17th, Benjamin Cutter, District 5 Male, 14 years old, Dehydration_

"...at least it wasn't us," Dorothy says with an uneasy laugh that ends both too soon and too late. "Which unlucky little tribute was it?"

"...I think you've had too much time in the sun Dorothy," Nigel replies. "But if you ask me, if the careers didn't get them it was the District 12 boy. He didn't look like he could last for long, and well, this arena is harsher than in the past years. From my knowledge District 12 isn't in the kind of environment most suited for this arena. That would either be my district or District 1."

"You know an awful lot about the Districts," Dorothy notes, eyes leering.

"I wanted to be a mapmaker once I did my time in the mines. There's always more mines in District 2. You would have to recognize a lot of terrain."

 _It still doesn't explain how you know so much about District 12_ I think to myself.

"Well," Dorothy continues, satisfied with the answer. "Ignatz wanted to be a fucking pencil maker, he said it should be safe. I want to go into pharmacology and make medicine, at least medicine that isn't based off of shit like leaves."

"I…" I start off. "Well, umm, I think making stuffed animals would be cute. It wouldn't be much, but I'd make them. And if you wanted me to I could make a pillow off of the victors."

"I would love to see my face on a pillow," Nigel snorts.

"I probably would have just been a field person. I'm not too smart but maybe I could get a career out of killing the animals in the field." He rolls up his sleeve and reveals a nice looking bicep. "Well do you think that I could be tough enough?"

"Bigger biceps than any of the boys in my apartment building," I say. "And maybe even all of my sisters."

"You have a good foundation, how'd you get that harvesting grain?"

"I threw grain onto a train," he says simply, rolling down his sleeve. "Okay it's definitely getting hot here," I'm not the only one feeling that, right?"

As he says it, the three of us wipe sweat off of our brow. "Good, I don't want to be an idiot for doing this." My jaw drops when he quite brazenly takes off his shirt and ties it around his head. "What? I do this all the time in 9."

"Weird flex," Dorothy says, her eyes glued to Will's pecs. "But who are we to judge? It's okay."

The four of us talk again about the toys we used to have and clothes we used to wear. In the end, we end the night bored out of our minds yet again. The capitol anthem comes up and we see the District 5 boy dead. It doesn't make sense to Nigel and it doesn't make sense to us. From what we know, District 5 has deserts, though he could have lived in the watershed of that big dam in District 5.

"Well," William says, putting his shirt on and finally ending the giveaway on eye candy. "Goodnight."

"...fuck it's me," Dorothy says. "I'll take watch, sorry about complaining."

"No worries," Nigel says. "Goodnight Dorothy."

"Goodnight Dorothy."

"Goodnight everyone," she says to all of us.

I lie in between William and Nigel. I turn over, debating if I want to-

No I don't. I'm not a pervert. No matter how cute… nor how desperate I may be! If I ever get out of here I'm going to find a boyfriend as soon as i can. I dream again of Remus and duke. I can picture us having breakfast but it's Remus who catches my attention. He talks to me about bad fashion and he's one to talk.

Finally the morning comes and we wake up. Already the sun is bright, but the temperature seems to be alright. The shadow of Dorothy appears on the tent and I finally sit up, walking out and seeing her already dismantling camp. "I don't think the capitol wants us to be lame ducks," Dorothy says, uncharacteristically cheery.

Even at the unease at her cheerfulness, I readily help her take down most of the camp. I shove my boxes of hammers and knives into my pocket and grab some fruit for later. The ruckus wakes up Nigel and William, who see us taking down the camp and help us. William tackles the raft and Nigel picks up the scraps. The wind picks up and a couple of tumbleweeds go over a cliff that we've been facing for the most part. Then the raft flies away.

"I got it," William says, annoyed.

The lot of us pay no mind as we continue with the rest of our duty cleaning up the camp. When we finish up, we look around, looking for William and the raft. I resist the urge to call out for him in case he got taken by that crazy District 2 girl. On instinct I look over the cliff and see the raft has fallen down.

"Hey," I point out to Dorothy. "Umm, our raft is down there. DId William drop it?"

She looks down the ravine and gasps. "Holy fuck…." she says. I look where she's glancing and there's William, knocked out, some fifty feet below us all.

"I'm gonna get him, and the raft," I say determinedly. The cannon hasn't fired yet and he can wake up. "I'll take some fruit, that should wake him up. Umm, here." I get the roll of tight cord off of my pocket and give it to Nigel and instruct him to tie to something sturdy. The tight cord will hold, I'm sure of it.

Slowly but surely I make my way down the cliff face. William took a nasty tumble but I can still hear him breathing as I walk up to him. He moans quietly and sees me, a smile on his face before he drops his hand. "Please…" I hear him moan.

"Will?" I ask, finally taking a look at his body. His legs are bent in opposite directions, his head has a bump the size of a grape, he's bleeding out the other side, and his arms are covered in scratches. "Will?"

"Just end it…" he moans. Suddenly he closes his eyes and begins to spasm. His eyes fling open and I can still hear him breathing but it's ragged and horrible. I begin to cry as his head slams again and again against the rock. I look in and out of my pockets and find my hammer.

"I'm sorry," I say through choked tears as I bring the hammer down on his head. He finally stops after who knows how long he was down here.

_16th, William Abrahamian, District 9 Male, 16 years old, Hammered by Paisley Harper._

I can't stop the tears from falling even as I start to cry. I didn't expect for this to happen so soon! After what seems like an eternity down there, the rain comes, and it comes down hard. The gorge fills with water quickly and I make my way to the raft, lying in it as it's slowly brought up. The hovercraft takes William's body away when I finally float up.

"What happened to him?" Dorothy asks.

I don't respond for a bit. Nigel brings the raft onto the shore and sits me down. "His fall was bad. He just started…asking me to kill him."

"Falls from 45 feet are often life ruining," Nigel says. "You did the right thing," he says quietly.

The three of us look at each other and open our water bottles just as the rain stops. The gorge is still full of water, fresh water, so we fill up our bottles and put it in. "Let's move," I ask. "We can put our stuff in the raft and let it float."

"Sure," Dorothy says, a lot more subdued. "I wonder if Ignatz and William are taking theirs on the way too. Jut floating a happy boat downstream wherever they belong."

We don't walk far, only to a nearby cliff face, except its a corner, so we don't have to use the raft for shelter. Yet, we do. We take the supplies out of the raft and put iodine into the bottles. The water is able to be purified soon, and for the first time in a long while, I take a long sip of water. I'm gonna have to keep on drinking if I need to survive. I'm not gonna turn into that District 7 girl from last year.

The three of us are discussing how we aren't gonna get a fire in the rain when a cannon suddenly fires. We wait in anticipation before we finally breathe again, only to be interrupted by the sound of another cannon. It seems like the water may have claimed a tribute, or it may have energized a couple.

_15th, Elisha Tansma, District 3 Female, 13 years old, bludgeoned by Aliyah Zion (D2F)_

_14th, Agnes Bakken, District 10 Female, 16 years old, stabbed by Lachlan Birst (D4M)_

All of us shudder at the thought of who the cannons were. "I hate to say it but I hope it was Aaliyah," Nigel says bluntly. The two of us turn to him, mouths agape, before he explains himself. "Aaliyah is strong and I don't want to be the one to kill her. If I told you what she…"

"What happened?" Dorothy pried.

"Well, she… and I… well, umm,``Nigel stammers. "We're part of a movement that thinks we shouldn't have to be unprepared for the Hunger Games. She took things way too far." The look in his eyes grows dark. "She and Remus went to blows over a lot of things during the training days."

"Wow," Dorothy trills. "What a terrible thing to do! We are out here trying to survive and she wants to-wants to make a- CAREER OUT OF THIS?!"

"Shhh," I hastily hush her. "A tribute could be anywhere. Or a mountain lion!"

"It still doesn't make it right!" Dorothy says, kicking up a storm. "And you're a part of this too Nigel!"

"Hey he's not that bad!" I try to defend.

"Right Paisley," Dorothy says. She turns with a sharp glare in her eyes before Nigel puts his knife to her throat.

"I don't want to fight yet," Nigel says sternly. "I'm just telling you what I believe. I don't want her to win anymore than you do. We're still all in this together, okay?!"

There's a rather tense moment when Dorothy looks at Nigel with equally intense eyes. I grip onto my hammer that's still wet from the… incident today... and look at the two of them with bated breath. The three of us remain standing for what seems like an eternity before Dorothy finally nods, avoiding Nigel's blade. "Fine," Dorothy says.

"Good," I say, trying to break the tension. "Now let's grab something to eat. It's going to be a cold night tonight."

The rain hasn't stopped in the tension filled moments that immediately preceded the night fall. I crawl on my knees to our bags and pull out our remaining supply of food. Half a bread, beef jerky, some fruit, and some multivitamins will have to sustain us for tonight. We gather in a circle of newly reformed tension and sit awkwardly with each other.

The roll call begins and the first face in the sky is the District 3 girl. I remember talking to her, she was pretty anxious and didn't click well with me. Again I recall her trying to make a case to join our alliance but we waved her off, politely. After her is William. The three of us give a small salute to him before his small but cocky smile disappears forever. Finally, it's the girl from District 10. She was rather angry- I remember trying to talk to her- and I never did catch her name. For her interview she did talk about her family back home with the biggest spit.

"It's my turn for watch," I say as the anthem finally ends. "I believe we left off with you, Dorothy?"

"Oh nonsense," Nigel says. "I'll keep watch."

"I can keep watch again, it won't bother me," Dorothy interjects.

"There are worse things to argue about," I interrupt. "But if Nigel offers then he can. But please, don't argue just yet."

The two of them look at each other with a snort and a glare. Finally, Nigel steps down and gestures to Dorothy to take the watch. I open the tent and encourage Nigel to go in. He looks at Dorothy with a look of hesitation before he goes in. He grumbles to himself before curling up with his front to one side of the tent. I sigh loudly and curl on the other side. Where were our blankets?

I wake up to the smell of something burning. I turn in the tent to look for Nigel but he's already out there. The tent flaps get in my way as I break through. Luckily they aren't fighting, yet, and the two of them seem to be eating well. "Join us Paisley," Dorothy says in a lighter tone than yesterday.

As I sit down I find that the smell is in fact mountain lion. It only seems like a couple of days ago since we've had it, back with William and his… I hope he's doing well. I want his family to understand me. I must be thinking for a long time when Nigel prods me. "Here," he says. "It's warm and juicy."

He holds a piece of meat that causes me to drool ever so slightly. I take the small cube from his hands and pop it in my mouth. I haven't had such juicy meat in a long while, not since before the war when I was like… 10… or was it 12? "You're really salivating over that, huh?" Nigel says.

"Obviously," I joke. "Was it you or Dorothy who cut this meat?"

"I killed it," Dorothy says, a sense of pride in her voice. "But it was Nigel who seared it."

"Did you have a lot of experience cooking?" I ask Nigel.

"I had my duties, and I do love me a good steak," Nigel says. Dorothy actually manages a laugh and it seems like the joking boy from District 2 is back in our alliance. "We have a lot of meat this time around, but we don't have a place to put it."

"If only we had some salt," Dorothy says. "Not only could that be good flavor, it's a good preservative. Salt is nice."

The three of us enter a conversation about preserving food and how we ate during the war. It finally ends when the sun is high above us. I take a glance at the ravine and see that it's gone down about a foot. "What do we have to carry our water? I know we have my bottles."

The others shrug and look at the pile of supplies. "We're going to have to look through Will's stuff," Dorothy says.

"I guess we are," Nigel agrees.

In his bags are an opened bag of dried fruit, the teacups, his thermos, and a plastic bag that once contained croutons. We throw the pregnancy test into the fire and look at the remaining apples, one of which is rotten. It also goes into the fire. Finally, there's just his iodine tablets and what looks like soiled socks. "I don't' feel right taking those socks anymore. I guess the hovercraft took something else because I could have sworn there were more things," Nigel says.

"Here, just pile them into one bag. We don't need both of them," Dorothy says. The clean up of the camp is quick. There's no time to put out the fire, but as Dorothy puts it, leaving the fire over there will make it a red herring in case any tributes want to follow us.

Again I look down on the river and see that it dropped another foot or so. It's not going to be practical to use the raft. "I'll fill our thermos with what we can," Nigel says. "And the bottles."

Briefly I pause as I pull out my bottles. _Do I really want to give them to him? What if he runs off?_ I push those thoughts to the back of my mind as I give them to him. So long as he hasn't made an attempt at my life or won't make an attempt at others, then I trust him. He makes a quick drop and hangs over and fills the containers up to the brim before closing them. It's a quick trip but by the time he goes back up it's down another four feet this time.

Dorothy has finished getting the tent down. "I'll take it," I offer. "I didn't take much down." My hands are full but I have room for more as Nigel and Dorothy lead their way back where we went previously.

Finally we find a suitable camp not too far from where we made camp a couple of days ago and sit down. "Did we leave the raft behind?" Nigel asks.

"It won't help us," I say. "It…"

"Didn't help Will," Dorothy finishes. "It's no big deal."

Night seems to come quickly, in fact it comes just after we finish camp, but we have no fire. I guess the three of us will be huddling tonight, or as close to it as we can. The tension is still in the air but it's slowly deflating like one of those old air balloons. I don't want to be the one to start it up so we just huddle in a circle around where we would place the fire.

The nightly anthem comes and goes without a look in the sky. I look to Dorothy but see that she's already asleep. She and Nigel in fact. I smile to myself, a pang of guilt weighing heavily on me as I stand guard, trying to stay up the best as I can.

Even if I don't sleep I do manage to dream that night. William and my parents are having dinner together, a good kind of bread that doesn't taste of rubble and war. His little brother or cousin pokes me in the back with a hammer and suddenly William is in my place and I'm in his place.

The weird dream ends and the sun is up. I take a look at Nigel and Dorothy as they sleep peacefully next to each other. I'm certain that if we weren't in this forsaken place then we would have been friends for certain. With the sounds of a tumbleweed going by I know for certain that I don't have to travel far to get a fire going for the day.

Just my luck. A tumbleweed has rolled into camp and landed on Nigel. I can't help but let out a little laugh as I pick the weed off of Nigel's sandy brown head. He wakes up confused as I hold the weed much like an elementary school kid would hold a ball. "Fire," he says knowingly.

Nigel and I get a fire going pretty quickly before Dorothy joins us in the land of the awakened nightmares. Nothing much happens today. We tread over conversation topics we've already had and I notice Nigel and Dorothy's face growing hard. Though I try to crack a few jokes it's clear that something is boiling. We have two meals today before the capitol anthem appears in the sky.

"Well," Nigel says in a rather happier voice than I would have expected. "I'll take watch," he says.

"Sure," Dorothy agrees with a leered glance. She puts a hand on her pocket and leaves to the tent. "Come on Paisley."

I follow her, looking at Nigel as he seems to smile a rather happy smile. Something's off. I feel it, but there's nothing that I want to act upon. A shiver goes down my spine and I make sure to zip up the tent.

Dorothy sleeps much like Nigel did two nights ago, with her back to the middle and her front towards the side of a tent. I sleep with my back on the floor, not caring that it's gonna give me problems later. I go to sleep nd in my dreams I don't jut dream of William, it's the girl from District 12 joining him in my nightly torment. I toss and turn before I wake up, vaguely aware of a shadow creeping over the tent.

If it's a mountain lion, Nigel will get it, but he might need help. All of a sudden, a cannon booms.

_13th, Tama Cabronna, District 1 Female, 17 years old, Bludgeoned by Aaliyah Zion (D2F)_

It happens instantly. There's a slash at the tent, a roar of determination, a flash of cold air, and screams of fear. Nigel and Dorothy roll around in the night, tearing the tent to pieces as I try to get away. Dorothy grabs at her pant legs and pulls out a knife-my knife!- and stabs Nigel once in the shoulder with it. He's nothing if not strong and pins her to the ground and deals enough punches to bloody her. He pulls out his spear and starts stabbing her, once in the legs, but she escapes the other stabs.

Nigel gets closer and holds the folding spear threateningly over her head. She can't move her hands to cover her.

In that instant, I charge, holding my hammer in one hand to knock him out and my rope in another. I'm screaming, he's screaming, she's screaming. I wrap my legs around his slender back and fall backward as I slam him once with my hammer before the twine goes around his neck. Dorothy looks on in horror and I tighten my grip on Nigel.

Finally, he goes limp, blood coming from his shoulder and rope burns around his throat. His cannon fires.

_12th, Nigel Tenzing, District 2 Male, 17 years old, Strangled by Paisley Harper (D8F)_

Dorothy and I look at each other as we breathe heavily. She holds out her knee and points to a bag, presumably with a bandage. I give her a bandage uneasily. She grips her knife tightly and I hold onto my hammer tightly. She patches herself up before she stands up awkwardly. "I guess the alliance is over," she says, calmly.

"Yeah...I guess it is," I reply, just as coldly. "I don't want to kill anymore today."

"Ignatz liked you. He said that you'd be a good friend. I never believed that friend part…. But I believe the good part." She grabs her bag and begins walking off.

The fire burns on as I roll Nigel's body into the crevasse. I never want to see him again… and hopefully, if i die in this arena or come out, I will never have to.

The night is still cold and the shelter is torn. I'm not going to be able to do what Remus did and stitch it together, the rope I have could still prove useful and will do nothing in keeping me sheltered. Regardless, I wrap myself in the remains of the tent and wait for the sun to break, dreaming of nothing for the rest of the night.

By the time I've woken up, the sun is high in the sky and I'm significantly warmer. The smell of the ground seems like it rained a while ago. I look in the sky and see that there are some clouds flying over, dark grey ones too, so I hope that they'll be able to come down soon.

After what seems to be a long time waiting for the rain to come, the sound of a cannon seems to be what finally triggers it. I tear open the packs and find one of my water bottles and open it up. I barely stop and consider who the cannon was for, but water is on my mind. Then another cannon fires and I grab my hammer worriedly. Something is going around.

_11th, Clara Bludworth, District 9 Female, 12 years old, Stabbed by Aaliyah Zion (D2F)_

_10th, Kilo Schelton, District 4 Female, 17 years old, Drowned_

Just as the rain stops I finally find a teacup for more water. Water is going to be even more of a problem now that I can't find the thermos. It must have been in the bag that Dorothy took. I wonder what weapons she has. Upon taking inventory of my own supplies I find that I'm left with a tea cup, the remains of the tent, my rope, the three boxes, some strawberries, and the massive fruit left over. Through the other bags I find the grill, a single blanket, half a pack of jerky, and the rest of the iodine. I think I'm in a fairly good position, all things considered.

I don't do much today. I just need to sit down. Maybe I'll crack open that giant fruit somehow. I roll the fruit over to me. It's heavy as hell and I drop it onto the tent. It doesn't crack. "What the fuck are you?" I mutter to myself. With a sigh, I look for something to stab it, realizing that I only have my hammer to break it.

The only option to clean the hammer is the canyon, if it's even full of water at this point. Huffing loudly, I take the hammer in one hand and tie the rope to the pile of supplies with my other. The walk isn't much, and by the time I get there the river is only five feet below. It's an easy dip into the water but a harder dip getting the rusted blood off. After many minutes of struggling, the hammer is finally clean and the massive fruit is about to die.

I slam the hammer down onto the fruit and I half expect a cannon to fire. STill the fruit is mainly intact, but it's bursting at the seams. I slam it one more time, the fruit bursts open in a shower of red and green, over the tent and over my legs, just as the cannon fires.

_9th, Lachlan Brist, District 4 Male, 17 years old, Bludgeoned by Aaliyah Zion (D2F)_

It takes a moment of me looking at the destroyed, watery fruit to confirm to myself that the cannon didn't go to the fucking fruit before I dive into it. I reassure myself that if it was a tribute I hammered I wouldn't be eating it. I take a bite of the fruit and the reddish or pinkish juice drips down my throat. It's surprisingly filling and tasty and it can last for a while.

Night falls over my shelter and the capitol anthem is up tonight. The first face isn't Nigel like I've expected, but the District 1 girl. I thought she was allied with Aaliyah, or whatever her name was in District 2. Following her is Nigel. My stomach lurches and I look at the sky with a heavy head. He was so cool in training, what happened just last night? After him it's the District 4 boy. How did that happen? I thought he was one of the stronger ones, and allied with Aaliyah! Then after him it's his District partner. Was she one of the back to back cannons? The final face in the sky is the girl from district 9, Clara, Will's partner. I think she was allied with the girl from district 4…

That's one less alliance to worry about.

The white of the Capitol's seal illuminates the arena for a while longer as Ouranos' Medderland's voice echoes. "Welcome to the final eight! Congratulations dear tributes for you are the best of the best of the year. To commemorate your survival a feast will be held in your honor tomorrow at high noon. We eagerly hope for your attendance."

At that the arena is plunged into darkness, with the sole exception of my fire. While I look at the blaze that slowly burns I realize that I don't need to go to the feast. In the last two years they were just family memories and supplies, and I don't want to jinx it but I'm good with supplies. All I have to do is wait for the tributes who want to go to the feast to whittle things down. I've killed too much already and I can go a day without spilling blood over me.

All I decide to do tonight is to set up the rope up and down and all around the craggy cliff face. If there's a tribute or mountain lion who ends up there, I'll win just by staying put. I wrap my blanket around me after I set the rope up and head to a long slumber.

So long in fact, that by the time I wake up it's still raining, and what wakes me up is the howling of a mountain cat. It's smaller this time, easy to kill with myhammer. I do so, and blood spills over my hands. It's only after I kill it i realize I have no way of cutting it. With a disappointed sigh I throw the carcass of the lion into the river. I sit behind the rope and wait for the feast to begin.

As I predict, there are cannons. I hear two of them in quick succession. I have to wonder if the threats managed to take each other out and if they happen to be Dorothy or my District partner.

_8th, Aaliyah Zion, District 2 Female, 18 years old,, Blood Loss from a mountain lion and in combat with Timothy Holstein (D10M)_

_7th, Zephyr Axelrod, District 7 Male, 16 years old, Throat slit by Dorothy Clearway (D13F)_

The day goes by quickly after that. I munch on the fruit and finish up the last of my multi-vitamins and take a swig of water all through the day. Bored, I hammer my name into the side of the wall, not really caring about the noise I'm making. I know that I want my name to be immortalized in this hellhole if only for the ironic comedy I know both of my parents love.

Do they hate me? Do they all rather wish I'd have died in Will's place? What will little Zoey think? What will Lacey think? Home in District 8 if I make it home will be District 8 I guess, I won't have to deal with the neighbors. Which is a damn shame because a lot of the boys were cute.

I spend a lot of time thinking with my blanket around my shoulders that I almost miss the faces in the sky. I head out from under the cliff face and see Aaliyah's face be replaced by the boy from District 7. I can't resist dropping my jaw. What killed them both? They were some of the strongest people and if I met up with the boy from 7… Zephyr… yeah Zephyr, earlier than I did with Nigel and the others I'd've definitely gone with Zephyr. We just gelled better.

The anthem and the seal disappear from the arena and sleep doesn't come easily this time. Whatever- or whoever killed Aaliyah is chasing me in my dreams. The arena this time is my apartment block. Mom and Momma fall down to the cause of Aaliyah's death and then my little sisters push me away as they succumb to a crevasse that appears.

I wake up screaming. It's still dark, but not for long, and then the arena comes to light. It's still dusty, still brown, still boring as hell. The blanket is well insulating but I still feel somewhat cold as I let out a sneeze that scatters embers through the area in front of me. I slowly ease my way out of the rope I've set and head on the prowl for tumbleweed. It's only when I grab some weed that I realize that I'm down to my last match.

I can go one day without warmth. I'll just camp for the rest of the games and if I die, so be it. I dig into the rest of the fruit, the water fruit, and it still dribbles down my throat. For the rest of the day I stretch, flex what little muscles I have, do those training things that Nigel and Dorothy taught me during training days that only needed the little body weight that I have, and above all else, stare at the wall.

No cannons fire during the day and the night. The anthem comes and goes like it's mostly done. No ripples in the sky to make it weird. Nothing extra. No bonus feast. No overhaul of the hunger games to let us all go home. Nothing.

I curl up in my blanket and sleep again.

A loud rumble wakes me up. I hardly manage to stand myself up when I find myself toppling over again. The arena is shaking! I curl up near the cliff face with my face close to the ground and behind my hands as the shaking slowly stops. Finally, I look to the crevasse to see that it's now much closer to me than I remember it. Message heard.

I pick up the last of my things and run off, I don't want that thing opening up and swallowing me whole. The walk is long and boring and before long I'm tired. I sit at another cliff face and decide to set up a smaller camp there. I have the rope and even if I don't want to make it, I sigh and get to setting up camp. The fruit in my bag made everything wet but the smell is honestly not that bad. I finish it off and look through my pack to see what I've brought with me. The half a pack of jerky is still there, as are some of the iodine. My blanket, my hammer, and another box. I've forgotten what's in my box, but I honestly don't mind. It might have been one of the pregnancy tests.

The mental checklist finishes and a cannon fires. I hold my hammer expectantly from my bag in preparation for the next threat. Then a second cannon goes off. Whether to fire, to tributes, to water, or to hunger, I do not know.

_6th Place, Derrick Breen, District 8 Male, 15 years old, Blood Loss from combat with Jana Quince (D7F)_

_5th Place, Jana Quince, District 7 Female, 17 years old, Pushed down ravine by Derrick Breen (D8M)_

The days seem to go quicker and now I feel like it's closer, too close to the end. Night comes quickly and the anthem blares through the arena. First in the sky is another threat, the District 7 girl. Jana. I thought she was nice. Then it's Derrick. It hadn't even occurred to me that he was still alive. He had three brothers and four sisters, I wonder if they're all crying now. He had a big family who all wanted him to come back.

I wrap the blanket around my face but I don't think I fall asleep. I just remember closing my eyes and then the arena is bright and sunny and shiny. Another earthquake runs through as I take down my rope. I don't see any crevasse coming over but I still can't be too cautious. I nibble slowly on one of the pieces of jerky as I continue my walk through the arena.

The walk doesn't last long before I hear someone moaning and groaning. Cautiously, I grab my hammer and look around a corner. To my shock, a girl is pinned under a rock. I rack my head as I run through the memories as to who already died. Finally, I remember it's Dorothy whose left. "Oh no," I groan.

"Pai-Pais-" she stammers. I run over to her head and she lets a tear go. "Do it," she mutters.

I cradle her head ever so softly as I push her hair back. "You're a fighter, you're gonna get-"

"Just tell Coxanda I love her," she stammers, coughing out blood. I hold my hammer high above her head and slam it down. Her head caves in and she twitches three time before her cannon fires.

_4th, Dorothy Clearwind, District 13 Female, 17 years old, Hammered by Paisley Harper (D8F)_

I leave her body under the rock as a hovercraft comes over and picks her up. Coxanda was her girlfriend. I have to get out if only to tell her that. After that, I just don't know.

But it's a plan.

I don't bother with the rope this time and curl up against the cliff face with the backpack as my pillow. I fell asleep early that day, missing the anthem. I know it's Dorothy's face in the sky. I don't need to do any more waiting for the faces. It's the first time in days that I think I go to sleep knowing that I can make it home.

_3rd, Timothy Holstein, District 10 Male, 17 years old, Gutted by Dylan Lacer (D12M)_

I wake up and again there's shaking. I don't have time to grab what I need but my hammer is in my hands as I wrestle myself free from the blanket, the rope, and the falling rocks. Who will I be facing? The monster from 10? The flirty kid from 12? Both of them?

There's no time to question anything as all I can do is focus on running, run away from the rocks, run away from the crevasses, and run away from the danger. No matter what I know I stand at least a 33% chance of making it home and I need to maximize it. It's gotta go as planned. Or it's gotta go in my favor.

The shaking stops when I enter a clearing. Alert, I grab my hammer tightly ,ready to swing as I edge along the rocky borders of the clear battle ground. Slowly, I keep my breath bated as I roll in. "Hey," I hear a reassuring voice call out.

I swing my hammer behind me, slamming against the wall, inches away from the face of the attractive but cute District 12 boy. "Remember me Paisley?"

"Dylan," I say, laughing a little. "So glad you made it to the end."

"Well you know I was not the buffest but I was the brainiest. These last couple of days were so brutal but you know, the girls back home were much wilder rides," he lets out a little laugh and releases his hold on what looks to be a scythe.

"The boy from 10 is still left," I say, sternly.

"Right," he says, hesitantly. "I didn't hear a cannon last night so he must still be around, correct?"

"Correct." I hesitate to let the smile on my face return. Why would he be asking me that, he could have heard the cannon, unless…

Unless he killed him…

"Well, do you want to team up and take him down?" Dylan offers. "Once he's gone then we just let the arena take one of us, huh? I know your dear old dad back home is keeping an eye on you."

"And I wish the same for you and your boyfriend."

He chuckles. "Paisley, don't you remember? I'm straight, I've never even thought of touching another guy's dick, And how can I be gay when there's a beautiful girl like you waiting back home for me. So what do you say? You and me against Tim?"

The twelve boy doesn't notice me shifting my hand to my back, and if he sees me transition my hammer to my other hand, he doesn't comment. "Let's shake on it," I hold out my left and and he takes it, a sigh of relief immediately on his face.

It doesn't last.

A loud groan of pain comes as blood from the side of his head begins to leak. "FAT CHANCE!"

He pulls out his bladed, curved sword, and slashes at my hand. I hiss in pain as i power through and swap the hand my hammer is in. With my left hand I dig the claw into his head as he stammers away backward, clearly dizzy. Dylan lands a cut on my legs before he falls to the ground, digging his sword into my feet as I howl in pain. He sturdies himself up and tries to grab at me but I slam my hammer head into his chin, sending him stumbling back.

I don't know whose blood is more on the ground but even if it's 100% mine I still have to keep fighting because the boy at my heels is still slashing. Flailing, kicking, I land a kick on his face. He rolls over and I keep kicking, causing more blood to fall out. I don't know how long I kick but by the time I finish he's barely breathing through his cracked ribs and bloody face. I raise the hammer and let it fall into his face. A cannon punctuates its fall as I kick him one last time in the ribs.

_2nd, Dylan Lacer, District 12 Male, 18 years old, Hammered and Kicked by Paisley Harper (D8F)_

I fall to the ground, my legs twitching as the trumpets blare. "Ladies and gentlemen! The Victor of the third annual Hunger Games, Miss Paisley Harper of District 8!"

A hovercraft flies over the battlefield and drops a ladder with what looks to be a scoop on it. I grab onto the lowest rung and slide into the scoop.

As the ladder rises, I take my first breath of freedom.

_Paisley Harper came out of the arena with five kills, two twitching limbs, and a grim sense of satisfaction. Many of the female viewing audience felt a surge of appreciation for the first girl, a rather young girl at that, to make it out of the arena. While not as popular as Remus nor Duke, she did have many adoring and screaming fans that welcomed her to the stage. She personally held no ill will to the strong tributes of the games, acknowledging their fight and resolve._

_District 8 saw a change in the next couple of days with the first female victor acting as a generous but rather practical figure. All of her family, all female, welcomed her home with open arms to the first-ever occupied house in District 8's Victors Village. The District would experience the opening of 2 new factories and three new schools alongside the construction of five new housing facilities marketed at a much lower value. Paisley and her family would contribute to the construction by making blankets and pillows._

_Her victory tour was filled with mixed feelings as she stopped by District 13, 12, 9, and 2 in order. For the most part, the families were respectful but some aspects of lingering hatred lied in District 12. Districts 9 and 13 thanked her for her merciful kills of two rather liked teenagers. In District 2 an assault attempt at the victory dinner was thwarted by the District's sole victor._

_Of the victors, she would grow closest to Remus, the older man thanking her for her service and forgiving her for her killing of Nigel. While her friendships with the other first decade victors grew (some would argue that she was the glue between the first ten victors) a little more sprouted with Remus, and the two were wed by the victory tour of the 10th Hunger Games._

_Ten years and two children later, they would divorce amicably, Remus living with their daughter in District 2 and Paisley taking their son back to District 8. Like her ex-husband, she would eventually be joined by one of her descendants. She would marry another man, the local postman worker, and have a further 4 kids with him._

_Paisley died the earliest of the first 10 victors, just before the first reaping of Hunger Games 69 of a lung infection, common in District 8. Like her ex-husband and best friend, she would be survived by legacies in District 8 and beyond._


	8. Triangle Isles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 04, TRIANGLE ISLES:** _

_**Name: Leon Tarn** _

_**District: 04** _

_Age: 18_

Directed by Iiliana Matherson (Capitol)

Paisley's victory was seen by several as a relative upset but District 8 was happy to have a victor nonetheless. She was lauded for her craftiness and contributions to her alliance as the main glue. The Capitol audience enjoyed how she brutally if mercifully, killed her alliance members and her rather pragmatic approach with the Hunger Games. She would become great friends with Duke and loving partners with Remus.

In between the end of the 3rd and the beginning of the 4th, the Districts noticed an increased amount of peacekeepers District 12 shut down two more of their coal mines in response to the increase in crime and District 7 began spreading its population northward, closer to the territory of Alaska. In Districts 9 and 10 the quotas were increased because of a supposed increase in crime.

Both Remus and Duke's training programs witnessed an increase in attendance. It was to the point where the two upper District victors got their siblings to help out with their programs. The peacekeepers paid them no min, and for that matter, neither did the capitol. Paisley's help for the District was small compared to them but she did mass-produce pillows for the impoverished population.

As it was from last year, the Hunger Games rolled around quicker than before.

District 1 presented two strong, blond tributes who suffered from the war and were dutiful members of Duke's program. The girl stood relatively tall at 5'8" and the boy was a natural flirt with all he charmed. From District 2 a quarry boy and a richer girl were reaped. Both were strong and stood on stage rather stoically. In district 3 the two tributes could easily be mistaken as siblings- identical twins- if it weren't for the fact that they came from opposite ends of the Districts and had never met before the day. District 4 was another strong standout. They were handsome and immediate frontrunners.

The youngest District this year was District 5 as a 12-year-old boy, descended from one of the rebellion's notorious war criminals, and a 15-year-old orphan girl were selected. Both the tributes from District 6 were addicted and dependent morphlings. Districts 7, 8, and 9, though not as strong as the first three districts, provided hope to fans of the underdogs. The boy from 7 and the tributes from 9 captivated the audience with their strength. The tributes from 8, average but determined, brought hope to their home District that they would be able to make another victor soon enough.

Of the higher numbered districts, District 13 was the clear standout. The handsome, charming boy from District 13 stood on par with many of the lower-numbered Districts and it was clear he wasn't going anywhere soon. Other than him, both the District 10 Male and the District 11 female possessed a sense of determination that, with any luck, could turn into strength to kill.

The parades this year were a bigger success than last year. The abundance of rather good looking tributes helped the audience get rather excited for the Hunger Games. The tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4 were consistently attractive and garnered most of the support from the Capitol audience with royal, militaristic, and aquatic themes starting a trend for the year. The boy from District 7 was able to pull off his ax themed costume to the delight of the audience. The tributes in District 9 were much more equipped to stylishly rock their worker themed costumes. The tributes from 13 also did well with their elemental costumes. But it was the District 5 tribute who were a shocking success with their electric net outfit.

On the first day of training the tributes from Districts 1, 2, 4, 7, 8, 9, and 13 all met up in a large group. They were considered the early favourites of the Hunger Games and it was clear that most of them were rather tough. From this massive group, several smaller factions split off. The largest faction would closely resemble the careers that would eventually be more commonplace. This faction was the female from District 1, the tributes from District 2, and the male from District 4. The male from District 1 and the female from District 4 opted to take their chances together.

The second day of training brought forth several injuries that were rapidly healed through Capitol technology and the big schism between the main 7 front running Districts. The females from 7, 9, and 13 formed a rather pompous trio. The remaining tributes all split off into random pairs and tentative friendships. There were a few tributes who went it alone, such as the girl from District 12 and the boy from District 8.

The final day of training was marked with cramming and preparing for the gamemakers. Three tributes scored scores of 11, which would be the second-most in any Hunger Games. In order, they were: the District 1 female who did naked combat and gymnastics after undergoing an hour in the temperature control room; the District 4 male who engaged in shirtless combat with an ever-changing array of weapons from the trainers he defeated; and the District 13 male who tied himself up before freeing himself and mutilating five dummies in quick succession. Shocking most of their supporters, the girls from 13 and 7 only scored a 5, less than half of their bigger competitors. The joint lowest scores all garnered 2s and they were easily written off as bloodbath fodder. The rest of the pack provided scores as high as 10 and as low as 3.

During the interviews, the audience was easily captivated by Districts 1, 2, and 4. The girl from District 2 spun a tale of history and honor and love that caused her support to skyrocket. The boy from District 8 was eloquent and loquacious as he talked in depth about the big family he needed to get back to. The two high scorers, from 1 and 4, charmed the audience with homely stories and good looks.

As usual, with successes, came flops. The District 13 boy was handsome and got one of the highest scores but he could not hide his anger towards the capitol. The 12-year-old from District 12 wet his pants on stage, as did the morphling addicted girl from District 6. The girl from District 7 held her nerves well until she threw up on stage. The girl from District 9 could barely hold her fury as she spit on Gaius Flickerman. Despite this, the pre-games were seen as a resounding success.

District 1; Male: Ace Luciano (16), 7, 54-1 odds; Female: Elizabeth Dowager (18), 11, 6-1 odds

District 2; Male: Marcus Dilecto (17), 10, 14-1 odds; Female: Justine Calabasas (17), 9, 20-1 odds

District 3; Male: Hendrik Taro (14), 5, 140-1 odds; Female: Lucy Catmull (16), 4, 140-1 odds

District 4; Male: Leon Tarn (18), 11, 5-1 odds; Female: Avalon Schooner (17), 7, 52-1 odds

District 5; Male: Bolt Takata (12), 5, 72-1 odds; Female: Gina Fritzherbert (15), 2, 175-1 odds

District 6; Male: Edsel Citrom (14), 4, 124-1 odds; Female: Abi Rotom (14), 2, 215-1 odds

District 7; Male: Parker Redson (16), 8, 44-1 odds; Female: Emily Tanoki (16), 4, 75-1 odds

District 8; Male: Zeke Hewman (15), 5, 64-1 odds; Female: Capri di Nochi(14), 3, 180-1 odds

District 9; Male: Landon Ryerson (17), 8, 48-1 odds; Female: Tritix Spella (18), 10, 18-1 odds

District 10; Male: Bucky Nickson (15), 6, 64-1 odds; Female: Lu Cortritus (16), 3, 180-1 odds

District 11; Male: Flynn Hagenbuch (16), 2, 150-1 odds; Female: Chanterelle Gramblin (15), 6, 96-1 odds

District 12; Male: Coalton Bowser (12), 2, 200-1 odds; Female: Ginger Waxley (17), 5, 85-1 odds

District 13; Male: Isaac Manhattan (18), 11, 5-1 odds; Female: Courtney Hooker (17), 5, 50-1 odds

_**In his words: Leon** _

When I open my eyes the first thing that greets me is a blinding sun. I hold my hand over my eyes as I slowly adjust. The second thing I notice are the sounds of waves crashing against what sounds like the land. I finally get accustomed to the light and look around to see that we are all on a ring surrounding the cornucopia.

_45, 44._

I look to my right to see my erstwhile ally, Marcus of District 2. We'll have to find Justine and Elizabeth later. He looks around frantically, his feet pointed to the cornucopia but his eyes are looking all around. I take a glance behind me to see that there are at least two islands connected by several different bridges.

_32,31,30_

Next to me is Ace from District 1. The two of us nod at each other respectfully, having decided not to kill each other but he's gonna try his luck with the tributes from District 13 and District 11 this time around. Next to him is one of the girls from the middle district, either Capri or Emily, they look similar, too similar.

_19,18,17_

Our outfits are in fact better for swimming than the last two outfits. Tank top, shorts, and whatever clothes are in the cornucopia. Come on, you can do this. You can make it to the cornucopia.

_12, 11_

Just my luck. Our ring is surrounded by water on both sides. Unless there are monsters in the water it's gonna be an easy twenty-meter swim to the main disc that the cornucopia is on. Behind me, I guess it's possible that a tribute could make it out there. I doubt it'd be someone from 12.

_5, 4, 3_

I prepare myself before the gong sounds, careful not to blow myself up as has been done twice before, but I guess for the little tributes it may be better to die to an explosion than it is to die to other horrors in the arena. Or myself, or one of the other threats.

The gong rings and I splash into the water. It's fresh, not salt, but I still cut through the water like a shark. Any District 4 tribute who wouldn't know how to do this is a disgrace to the district. Taking occasional breaths I can't see anyone heading to the cornucopia battlefield, meaning I'm first.

My hands touch the side of the cornucopia's disc and I flail about, putting my hand upward and pushing up as I did out of the artificial pools so many times. The disc the cornucopia is on is still laden with bags at different distances. As I step out I find what looks to be a plastic tarp and I lift up my hand to see it's attached to several latex gloves. It could come in handy but I have to make it to the gaudy eyesore of a cornucopia to grab the best supplies for my alliance.

I trip as I bump into the side of the cornucopia, becoming startled as I rub against its side. The cornucopia releases a weird noise and I realize that it's inflatable. Absolutely ridiculous, but I can't dwell on it too long. Not when there's others gunning for my ass.

In the cornucopia I go, and within I find several glistening weapons. I grin to myself as I pick up a spear in one hand and a small cutlass with a scabbard. I put a knife in my teeth and head out, ready to grab some of the bigger bags. A scream echoes from the battlefield and the bloodbath sounds like it's begun in earnest.

_26th, Ginger Waxley, District 12 Female, 17 years old, Drowned by Marcus Dilecto (D2M)_

I leap over several piles of supplies as it looks like many of the other tributes are fleeing. _Make our job harder then, we don't care,_ I rationalize. I'm part of the strongest alliance of the year. One of us is getting out.

The girl from a lower district tries to avoid my gaze as she makes a leap to a rather big pile of supplies. I chase after her as she leaps from the pile with hardly more than a pile of clothes. She has no way of defending herself from my cutlass.

_25th, Capri di Nochi, District 8 Female, 14 years old, Gutted by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

Elizabeth flashes me a thumbs up as she dashes into the cornucopia, grabbing a giant axe. She was always hiding her strength in training, not very well but she was. I hear the sound of footsteps behind me and move my head just in time to avoid a knife whizzing where my head was. The boy who threw the knife looks like a deer in headlights before Elizabeth chops him down.

_24th, Hendrik Taro, District 3 Male, 14 years old, Bisected by Elizabeth Dowager (D1F)_

Again, she flashes me a thumbs up as she runs off. I haven't seen Marcus or Justine, but they ought to be doing well. In the chaos of the bloodbath some tributes are slipping, obviously not used to the water, and it's clear that they're suffering from some kind of water in their ears. A boy tries to get the water out of his ear before he charges at a girl going to the same pile of supplies he had. I retreat to the cornucopia just as Marcus joins me.

"We need to make more," he says pragmatically. "I just don't want to stay here any longer."

"Same dude," I reply, picking up another spear in my left hand.

"Good luck," he says, running off to the brawling tributes. The girl sees Marcus running at her and pushes the boy down with a knife in his eye. He falls to the ground in agony and then Marcus runs away. The boy bleeds out.

_23rd, Parker Redson, District 7 Male, 16 years old, Knifed by Chanterelle Gramblin (D11F)_

On the edge of the battlefield, I see Justine now just coming up. She runs to me at the cornucopia and heads into the structure. I head out into the field to see some more of the lower districts fighting over a loaf of bread. Elizabeth is able to swing her axe into one of their heads as the other screams. I run up behind the other and stab them in the back.

_22nd, Gina Fitzherbert, District 5 Female, 15 years old, Axed by Elizabeth Dowager (D1F)_

_21st, Lucy Catmull, District 3 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

Marcus jogs up to us with several bags in hand. I jog with him to the outer edges of the battlefield. There aren't many others left and I can see figures off in the distance making their way off with choice supplies. Several fights on the edge of the cornucopia seem to be ending. A girl lets out a pained scream and I can see the third biggest threat in the arena grab their supplies.

_20th, Abi Rotom, District 6 Female, 14 years old, Bloodloss from the battle with Isaac Manhattan (D13M)_

I duck as a stray spear comes from Isaac's direction before I see the District 11 boy try to stab me from the side. He's slow and clunky, so he doesn't do much other than giving me a really shallow cut along my shoulder. I kick him in the knees and he spawls. It doesn't take much to kill him, just a stab to the chest. His blood sprays over me.

_19th, Flynn Hagenbuch, District 11 Male, 16 years old, Stabbed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

Marcus helps me up and pushes the dead boy off of me. The two of us look around the bloodbath and see Justine chasing after one of the middle district boys. He runs into a girl from the lower Districts and runs off. The girl stares off in the distance as she flails loudly, running into Justine before she collapses, dead. The boy runs off and Justine can't catch him.

_18th, Lu Cortritus, District 10 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Landon Ryerson (D9M)_

We run up to Justine and help her up. "I didn't get her," she says bitterly. "She avoided my mace. I think Landon got her," she laments.

"At least you didn't die," Marcus says. All three of us walk back to the cornucopia and reconvene with Elizabeth, who sits properly on an inflatable crate. "How many did you get Liz?"

"Two," she says bluntly. "I mean for all of us who said we were business we didn't get much."

"The tributes fled," I counter, gesturing to the wide dearth of the battlefield. There are some bodies over the edge, floating in the water, and bleeding out on land. I swear I see one of them give a death twitch before the cannons begin to fire. One, two, three… all the way up to nine.

"Only nine," Justine mumbles.

"Doesn't matter," Marcus says. "Let's just get outta here. They all have to die sooner or later. And we just have to go hunting."

"Well is there anything in the cornucopia?" I ask. The four of us walk into the cornucopia to see a giant raft full of supplies within. We can barely make out the word 'Pax' on the side of the raft. It's big enough for all four of us and some of the supplies. I walk over and knock it on the side. "Seaworthy as any other vessel," I tell the group. Marcus and I hoist the raft into the water where it makes a splash.

"No one's gonna come back to the cornucopia," Justine says. "Might as well take what we can."

Elizabeth and Marcus head out onto the field before returning with an armoury of weapons. "I don't think we'll need this much but we can never be too careful," Marcus says.

"Right, let's actually grab some food, huh?" Justine says.

"Fine," Elizabeth says, dropping some of the weapons off of the field. "What? If we can't have them then the others shouldn't."

The four of us grab backpacks and backpacks of supplies and pile them into the raft. "Do you think there's a spare change of clothes in there?" Marcus asks.

"We'll head to that island in the distance. I'll push," I volunteer. "We'll find out when we get there."

"Push?" Justine asks.

"In case you haven't noticed that the raft is full to the brim. We need to have some of us push or else we run the risk of capsizing all of our shit." I take off my shirt and toss in the raft before diving in. "Anyone want to help me?"

Marcus takes off his own shirt and I can hear the capitol ladies swooning all the way over here. He dives in the water next to me and the girls gingerly step into the raft. Marcus and I give it a big push as I kick. We get the raft out to the first ring then it takes all of us to hoist it up onto the shore. Exhausted, Marcus and Justine decide to swap places and it's me and Justine who push the raft to one of the islands.

"Huh," Elizabeth says as we make landfall. She steps onto the shore and stretches. "I might as well grab the bags."

"I propose that Leon just goes and forge the path ahead," Marcus says as he slings two bags over his arms. "He did kick us all the way over."

I oblige and grab a giant sword-machete-from the raft and a small bag of my own before the others join a brisk pace behind me. Justine has the raft, Liz the weapons, and Marcus a lot of the bags.

I'm cutting away at the forest when Elizabeth falls down with a scream. Marcus drops his bags and helps her keep the wound elevated, preventing her from bleeding out. She grabs at her side and there's an arrow protruding. Justine and I run into the forest, tripping over roots and plants before we find the shooter. The boy holds up his hands in fear as I stupidly throw my machete.

Somehow, it hits. The boy falls down grabbing his gut. I rush up, pull my machete out, and slit his throat.

_17th, Bucky Nickson, District 10 Male, 15 years old, Slashed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

"Let's keep moving," I say, averting my eyes from the mutilated boy. The cannon fires and Justine and I trudge back to the group. I continue cutting away the brush and then our trek continues in silence.

Finally, we come across a small river bank. We drop the raft and each dig into a bag in search of some bandaids or alcohol or anything to prevent Liz from bleeding more. A light beeping comes from the sky and we turn, alert. A small parachute comes downward with a large number 1 on the canister. I jump up and grab it before I toss the capsule and chute to Elizabeth. She opens it hesitantly, peering inside and pulling out a tiny bandage and a whole lot of cotton balls.

A slip of paper falls out and then she reads it aloud. "Beth, your funds are good for now. Just be more alert, the capitol is watching and they like you." The three of us look at her as she tears open a bandaid and applies it just over her wound. "From Duke."

"That's right," Marcus says thoughtfully. "Remus said that the capitol is going to support some of the tributes this time around. After what happened with a couple of favourites last year they said they wanted to pay money to the capitol…"

"For a piece of the games," Justine finishes. "Live vicariously, I guess."

"Then we better put on a show," I joke. The four of us laugh as several more parachutes come down to us.

We each get one of them. "I'm not sure if I want to open this before we find out what kind of shit we have in all those bags," Marcus says.

"Eh, to each our own," I say, opening mine up. The smell of fresh bread greets me like the sea on a warm and sunny day. There are four loaves, one for each of us, I take out one loaf and divide it into fourths.

"I appreciate the offer but I got some bread too," Justine says. Both Elizabeth and Marcus then hold up their parachutes to reveal… yep… bread. "Though I do have butter."

"Oh, can I take some?" Marcus asks. "I don't know what it is but I just love it," he laughs to himself. Using a scoop Justine has, she puts some butter on his bread and eats it whole. "Just like the bakery used to make."

It's a calm thirty or so minutes before either of us really make a stir. I look for my shirt and put it back on before I head over to the bags we have. "How do we want to divide this? Just look through all of it and we each take two?"

"Beats me," Liz says, sitting on a rock as if she's poised to drink some tea. "If there's a tent then we'll all use that and we'll divide the… remainders. Hey, I didn't spend enough time in school learning math!"

"No one was judging you," Justine says. "It sounds like we could all go off and sort things out."

"Well," I interrupt, "We don't need to go looking for a tent because I have two right here." I kick two bags in the pile each marked with a blue and blond word TENT on them.

The girls each pull a tent out and begin setting them up. They find a set of trees that make for a good anchor point before setting the rest of them up. Marcus and I hoist the raft to the campsite where he wordlessly picks up two bags, one much bigger than the other and sorts through it. Mirroring him, I grab two bags and look off in my own. Something tells me it's better to keep them hidden from the others.

Just as the girls finish they take their own bags and begin sorting through them. In my biggest bag I find that it's mostly blankets, clothes, and several pieces of dried food. It'll last but there are no water bottles in there… but there is a water pouch. The inside of the pouch also has a bag of iodine in it. I've never been the best at math but there's enough iodine that'll last for… nine days if I need to use one pill for one-half gallon of water and the pouch contains that.

In my middle bag, I find more items. There's a knitting set with needles in a tiny blue box, a pair of serrated hunting knives, a strand of rope, four foldable water bottles each a pint-sized, some bandages, a smaller pack of fruit, some plastic bags, and a small black container of 10 matches each. With all my stuff laid in front of me, I begin to change out of my clothes into the fresher ones and let my old ones run by the water.

It's when I'm letting my clothes dry that I see some fish in the water. The fresh river water produces a fine mist that lays on my skin. It's nothing like home but its still refreshing. If we stay here for a couple of days then I can find something to eat. "Leon," Elizabeth calls. "If you're done bathing in the water come help us start a fire!"

With that, the magic of the river disappears into the wilderness and I reluctantly walk back to the group. "Did we interrupt your meditation?" Justine asks. "There's more water all around for you to meditate in, don't worry."

Marcus makes no comment. Rather he pulls out some lighter fluid and strikes his knife against what looks like a rather metallic rock. Some sparks fly out but it doesn't catch on anything. "Do we need more kindling?" Justine asks.

"No," Marcus grunts. "The grass isn't that wet so we don't need more to ignite this." After several more starts, a rather smoky fire begins. We all dive out of the way and cough before the smoke clears to something more manageable. "We have a grill, right?"

"We do," Liz says, pointing to a metal piece in the pile. It seems like there are three communal backpacks that are probably filled with different things. "But no meat."

"There's fish in the water. Give me thirty minutes and we can have some fish," I say. The sun is already starting to set, cloaking the arena in a surprisingly gentle light. I sit on the edge of the water, breathing at a controlled pace and staring at the water. A rather meaty school of salmon go by but I only grab two of them. I guess today's weighing on me more.

No other fish go by, but there are mussels in the shallow river that I grab a handful of before returning to the group. "Not a good haul," I say humbly. "I guess the fish weren't biting."

"Since you caught them we'll skin them," Marcus says, putting a spare knife to the big fish we do have. The girls break off the mussels and pile the meat onto a leaf to cook. Justine wipes at her eyes occasionally and actually looks close to tears. I look at the fire with a pensive glare and just look into it.

 _Did I really need to kill all of them? Would they have done the same?_ Instinctively the answer is yes to both of them. As I look into the fire more I realize… maybe the answer is no? Not just to one of them but maybe to both of them? It was… it was so easy. Marcus gives me a mussel and I slurp it up. It still tastes like home. What would my dad think of this? Am I no better than our grandfather?

The capitol anthem plays as we all finish up the seal. First in the sky are the tributes from District 3. As her face fades from the sky I realize that I killed the girl. After them, it's the girl from District 5. I guess that means that Ace and Avalon made it out alive. After her it's the girl from District 6. During training she reminded me of my cousin, and I did try talking to her, but she was too addled. Still, I feel bad for her. At least I didn't kill her.

After her is the boy from District 7, Parker. I thought he'd be a bigger threat, but now he's gone, joining the District 6 girl and all the others. He mentioned having a sick sister and he was fighting for her. If it weren't me nor my alliance nor Ace nor Avalon I'd have liked to see him win, but the fact of the matter is that only one of us will head out, and at this point I still want it to be me. Following Parker is the District 8 girl. After what Paisley pulled off last year I didn't want to take chances, but was she always that young? She looks just like my little sister...I wonder what she thinks of me now.

Next in the sky are the tributes from District 10. That's right, I killed the boy just after the bloodbath. Who got the girl though? After they disappear it is the boy from District 11 who shows up. I got him too. He was the one who threw a spear. There's one more face in the sky and I hope against hope it's the other tribute who got an 11, the boy from District 13. Nope, it's the starved girl from District 12 who got the last cannon. The anthem finishes and puts the arena into darkness.

"Who'd you get?" Justine asks Elizabeth.

"One guy and one girl," Liz says thoughtfully. "I think it was the 5 girl and the 3 boy."

"They have names you know," Marcus grumbles. "I know for a fact that I got Ginger from 12. I drowned her during the race to the cornucopia. And you got Bolt and Hendrik."

"That's three," Justine says as she digs in the dirt with a stick.

"I got the boy from ten, Bucky I think." A quick glance at Elizabeth and Justine confirms it. "Then the boy from District 11… Flint or Flynn? Whoever he was he threw a spear at me so I had to take him out. The girl from District 8, Capri, I didn't know what Paisley could have taught her and I'm not taking any chances."

A chill seems to brush over the others. "I just saw her with the rope during training and didn't want to deal with that in the games." That seems to placate them. "And the girl from 3. She...Laicy? No Lucy. She yelled at Avalon during training, remember her?"

Elizabeth lets out a dry chuckle as she recalls the admittedly not so funny event. "Well that's a whole lot of them for you Leon. Four just got down to it," she says, with an odd seductive tone to it. "So long as I'm not number five then we're still friends."

"Four, plus Liz' two, plus Marcus' one…" Justine mulls. "That's only 7 out of the ten. I guess this year the other buggers got something."

"That handsome Isaac must have gotten one, he was strong," Elizabeth says. "Well, now that we've done our math homework I think that I'm heading to sleep. Goodnight everyone."

We wave her off as she heads into a tent. "I'll join her," Justine says, just as quickly.

Marcus wrings his hands and looks at me. "You're not going to kill me now, are you?" Marcus asks, in a much softer and higher voice than he's been using.

"No," I say quickly.

The two of us stare into the fire for another minute as the night drones on. He stifles a yawn and starts to stretch. "Do you want me to keep watch?"

"I got it," I say, holding onto my pack. "Goodnight Marcus."

"Goodnight Leon."

The fire still burns even after I accidentally kicked some dirt onto it. I hug my pack as I stare into it. I have to keep quiet but hen I'm left alone with my thoughts, I sing. A quiet sea shanty escapes my lips as I pull out the package of bread that my escort got me. She and I did argue a lot during training and she did favour Avalon but she's pulling through for me now.

A note falls out. _As much as I hate to say it, I'm proud of you. The capitol loves your brutality. Some bread for you and some more packages will come at night. Kinickahau_

I look to the sky just as four parachutes come down. As silently as I can, I grab them and bring them down. The first one has what looks to be lotion. The second has a bit of oily and crunchy skin that I'm sure people in district 10 love. The third has more iodine and something that can turn saltwater into freshwater. Finally, the fourth package, and the largest one, is another sword. It's sharper than the one I used in the bloodbath and shines in the moonlight. If they catch me with it, I'm gonna be dead.

Ever so softly I hide the sword in our pile of weapons before I throw away the parachutes and move all my new loot into my bags. I wonder if Justine and Liz and Marcus will get theirs tomorrow.

The sun breaks over the trees and the first one out is Marcus. He sits next to me just as a parachute falls down for him. It's only one for him but it looks rather hefty. I point over to the tent and he wordlessly nods. Sleep comes surprisingly easy but that's because I've balled up my clothes and used it as a pillow.

I wake up with sweat going through my clothes and heaving breaths leaving my body. In the tent, I exchange my soiled clothes for what I used as my pillow and head out to join the others. Marcus and Liz seem to be talking and Justine is trying to grab fish from the river. I join the two of them as they seem to finish up their conversation. "We were just talking about you," Marcus says. "What did you get last night?"

"Pardon?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"Oh, umm, Liz got two packages for her kills and I got one package for mine. Just had some fruit in it for me." I can hear Liz hold a chuckle.

"Not much, I did get a new set of clothes," I say. It doesn't seem to cause prodding and luckily we don't have to when Justine joins us.

"Water must do wonders for your skin, not like District 1 which is desert and town and town and scrubland," Elizabeth says.

"Your skin looks fine," Justine says. "What's it like in District 1 anyway?"

"Since I live in the biggest part of District 1 I at least have the closest access to the latest and greatest. My dad runs a perfume factory, my mom a plastic surgery clinic, and my uncle an artificial gem lab, so we were well off. We got a big bunker during the war but I had to stay in there for like, a year. It was so boring no matter how hot the boys and girls were! I wish I had an island. Which is why I'm at least glad this place is out in the open. When we got out it was a whole new world, the capitol gave us pretty good shit if I might say."

"Like what? A new grocery store?" Marcus asks.

"That, and several new boutiques, a new school. But lately, I've been spending a lot of time with Duke and his small class."

"Duke teaches a class?" I ask.

"Oh yeah," she says. "It's more of a club really. Physical activity, foraging, and a whole lot of other things. Beats heading back home to my brother and his soccer team. But enough about me, what does Remus do in District 2?"

Marcus and Justine look at each other and put down what they were fiddling with. "Remus does something similar. It's like a day class for thirty-six people," Marcus starts. "Actually Justine and I were part of the younger section. It's one day in our seven day week so it's something to do."

"If I weren't in the games I'm honestly pretty sure I'd be in the mines as either a miner or a guardswoman," Justine says.

"I'd probably be joining the peacekeeper corps, hopefully, close to home or the Capitol," Marcus says.

"Well I'd like to think I'm attractive enough to be a model but I'd probably see if I could get back to refereeing my brother's soccer games."

"Honestly, I haven't thought about it. In District 4 you live life day by day. This is really the first time I'm doing some hardcore planning. Not my kind of living but hey, you got to go like the waves," I say with a sigh. "I'm gonna grab some food for us, maybe I can grab some fish this time."

When I go back to the campgrounds with eight big fish, I see that Elizabeth has gone hunting and Justine and Marcus are building something out of the supplies we have. "Any kind of tupperware or something to preserve these things from the pile?"

Marcus turns, surprised with my haul from the day before he grabs a long container from the pile. "Just this," he says. I put one of the fish against it and it's barely enough for one of them. "You're probably gonna have to cut them."

A beeping from the sky comes down for all three of us. Inside are a dozen ways of storing food. _I'd appreciate it if you'd actually delve into your supplies before hunting for them, Remus_

"It doesn't quite sound like Remus," Justine comments. "Probably just a message from our escort."

Elizabeth comes back with a handful of berries. She's about to put one in her mouth before Marcus slaps it out of her. She's about to yell at him before he interrupts. "Didn't you pay attention at the edible fruit station?"

"What?" she replies. "Of course I did!"

"These are fucking Jerusalem cherries!" he says loudly. "My dad had one of them and he swore he could see into the future. That was before he emptied his stomach twelve times over and he had a skin like the fucking fire!"

There's a silence as I continue tending to the fish. To my dismay, I've burned a piece, but the other pieces seem to be rather well. "Well, good thing I don't just have Jerusalem cherries. What even is Jerusalem anyway?"

"Some old city probably," Justine says. "The name sounds something like my grandma would blabber on and on about."

It turns out that Justine's grandparents were all involved in academia and research until rebels burned down a library. She lost her grandmother to the fire and her grandfather hasn't been the same ever since. Another sharefest begins and we learn that Marcus lost an older sister who fought for the loyalists and that Elizabeth's father's foot was blown half off. I choose not to speak up, my losses were comparatively small.

Night falls as we all eat our meal of fish and sorted berries. Justine pulls out a pack of thinly sliced potato pieces that she offers to all of us, but Elizabeth is the only one taking them. The anthem plays and we see no deaths. "How about we move camp tomorrow?" Justine recommends.

"Sure," I readily agree. "I just want to stick to the river. In case we lose things."

"We can use the river and our raft for transporting our shit," Marcus says helpfully. "Though I think we'd want to leave later rather than sooner."

"Agreed," Justine says, curling up on a log. "I'll take watch tonight. Just in case we get an ambush like with what happened to Caroline from Duke's Games."

"She fended herself well," I say defensively. "She did well against two."

"But she was still saved by a knight in shining armor," Elizabeth says. "Better to be like Duke than it is to be like Caroline. Or for that matter Nigel."

There's a bit of a chill that goes through us all as I finally decide to go to the tent, curling some of my clothes up in my bag and putting my bag underneath my head. The tent flap opens up and Marcus comes in, holding a knife that he folds away. "Oh, you got that side," he notes.

"I can go to the other side," I offer.

"No it's alright, you look comfy enough. Did you happen to have a blanket?"

Again I rummage through my pack and pull out my blankets, tossing one to Marcus, and curl up. "This doesn't weird you or anything?" Marcus asks. I lift my head up and see him with a blanket over his body. "Like two guys sharing a tent? Isn't that a little weird to you?"

"Have you ever had to share a room with a brother? Cousin? Dad even?" I ask. He shakes his head confused. "Wow, so all this is new to you huh?"

"Well, the Hunger Games did only come into play three years ago, this is still new to all of us," I comment. "Hey, you look cold, come on."

Marcus seems apprehensive as I open up my blanket and he curls in next to me. "I don't know if we should be getting so… so close to each other."

"One kid died of dehydration or something last year. He died alone, and I know that I'd rather die together with someone I can closely consider a friend. At least, a friend in this situation." As apprehensive as he looks, Marcus obliges, and the two of us are out like lights.

I don't know if dreams can transfer between minds or if it's the gamemakers doing but I dream that I'm back in the bloodbath, in Marcus' position. I'm about to drown Ginger when I feel the District 10 boy… Bucky… grab at my pants and bring me down. The boy from District 11, Flynn, stabs a sword into me as I call for help. Just as Marcus appears it all goes dark.

Again, I wake up sweaty, but this time Marcus is clinging to me like I'm a rope in the salty stormy sea. Gingerly I get his arms off of me and head out of the tent into the river. I empty out my bag and strip off my clothes. I can only get my pair of shorts on when Justine sits next to me. "Ain't that a sight for sore eyes," she says bluntly. "Nothing happened last night. No parachutes no nothing."

"There's always later tonight don't worry," I say reassuringly. "Do we want to fish today?"

"Oh," she perks up. She holds up two dead squirrels with a look of pride in her eyes. "I didn't get much but these two did scamper by. I was very lucky to grab them."

"Well I've never had squirrels before, so I guess it's the first time for everything. I hope it's not too fatty."

She laughs quietly and pats my stomach. "I think you can spare a little bit of fat. Though your fangirls may disagree."

"As if I'd get fangirls after 3 days in this arena. I bet I'm not as pretty as I used to be."

"Trust me," she says, putting her hand on my head as she heads off. "You're pretty."

I rolled my eyes and finally put my tank top on. "Breakfast today?" Marcus asks.

"Squirrel," Justine says briefly. "Just like Mom used to make."

"Maybe the 7 tributes would like this well," Elizabeth notes. "I admit I'm envious of District 7, so many beautiful trees."

"I mean you'd have to chop them down and either burn the land or grow that," Justine comments. She's divided the meat into several different sized cubes and we each take two. "So how are we gonna take down the camp?"

"First things first, we get rid of the fire," Marcus says, kicking dirt onto the fire. "Let's wash the grill and we can pile the packs up into the raft. Do we have rope or something?"

"The river's flowing and not that deep, only neck deep at the worst. WE can do what we did last time," I comment.

"Oh no, I'll take care of pushing it, since you did a lot of the work last time," Marcus says. "Then we need the tents and then the weapons. With all four of us here we won't take too long,"

It's something we can all agree on. Elizabeth takes a couple of the communal bags and the grill and sits in the water, looking for some cloth or something to wash off. I empty the boy's tent and the girl's tent is handled by Justine. Marcus manages to move the raft of supplies down to the riverbed and hesitates before putting it in. He takes off his shirt and shorts before heading into the water. He jumps out just as quickly, seemingly frazzled by the cold. Admittedly he does have a nice tight body, but I can't be a flirt this time around. No matter how hot we all may be.

And well, the last flirt in the arena didn't make it out. During the second hunger games I had nightmares of Caroline's dead body and couldn't eat crayfish for months. Last year there were a lot of rather brutal deaths, none of them due to flirting but mountain lions were brutal.

The tent goes down shortly after and I plop it in the river, sitting next to Marcus. A flush of red goes over him and he suddenly becomes very focused on a rock in the river. "You've got nothing to hide, I know the water's cold."

"I'm an okay swimmer, so I'm not worried," he says. The red still is on his face as he kicks at the water. "Am i really that ugly?"

"Where'd you get that from?" I ask, confused. "You obviously take care of your body and you've got rather good eyes. Come on, you haven't heard that before?"

"I've never dated anyone," he says rather bashfully. "I was planning on settling down with someone after my peacekeeper service. Parents are rather old in District 2, just on average, so I wouldn't be missing much. How many exes have you had?"

It takes a while but I finally get a number. "Seven," I say bluntly. "Two boys and five girls. Never really stuck that long and people thought I was a player."

"Did you ever go all the way?"

"Kind of candid today," I comment. "A couple of times, I'd like to think I'm pretty skilled with what I've got, but I'm sure the three I actually had sex with would tell you otherwise."

"Oh," he says quietly. "If I ever do meet them can I ask?"

We laugh a little just as Justine finishes taking down the tent. "So how does this work? We walk along the shore and Marcus pushes the supplies?" she asks.

"Yeah basically," Marcus says, bracing himself as he heads into the water. "You know it's not that heavy," he declares, placing his hands onto the raft. "Might be the river, but let's go everyone."

It hardly seems like we've been walking long when we see a fire in the distance. "Hold up Marcus," Justine says, holding her hand in front of the raft. "Let's set up camp. That way we can check out that fire."

"That means there are tributes here," Marcus objects.

"And we have these weapons to help. Plus we can knock out the competition," she says grimly but enthusiastically. "I just want to get out of here and the sooner others die the sooner we can … decide."

He hops out of the water and shakes his head dry. "Fine, but at least let me put on my shorts."

"I'll set up camp," Liz says. "I didn't find much yesterday but I can hold my own. How about the tree of you head off, in case they need help."

"I can help you if you need it," I offer.

"Like I've said dear Leon," she says snidely. "I've got it. And who knows, the tributes may have some good loot of their own."

"A lot of people did escape the cornucopia," I reluctantly agree. "Let's go then."

Marcus picks up a nasty looking mace and gauntlets. Justine picks up a rather weird scimitar that's as thick as it is long, and looks rather heavy as a matter of fact. She handles it with ease and that leaves me to pick up my sword from the pile, luckily no one seems to comment on it. We hoist the raft out of the water and Elizabeth looks at the pile. "Now where to begin?"

"Anywhere," Justine says. "We should be quick."

We remain quiet as we trek through the forest, Marcus covering the rear as he keeps his eyes glued to our general camping area. Occasionally he drips a bit, not fully dry from his time in the river. "There!" I hiss, ducking down. A figure walks between the trees. A girl, tan skin. Hopefully not Avalon. I hope not Avalon.

Justine stands up and rushes towards her, dragging her sword on the floor. The girl lets out a scream before it's hastily cut off. Marcus and I hear Justine breathe a sigh of relief that comes out like a giggle before we hear her grunt again. A cannon fires.

_16th, Tritix Spella, District 9 Female, 18 years old, Slashed by Justine Calabasas (D2F)_

We hear Justine walk back to us, breathing heavily before there's sounds of a battle just beyond our line of sight. "We have to go!" Marcus says urgently.

The two of us jump up to see that the girl from District 13- Courtney the rebel- is on her back and stabbing repeatedly. Justine goes down but not before slashing the girl across the chest. It sounds like there's another tribute out here too.

_15th, Justine Calabasas, District 2 Female, 17 years old, Slashed by Courtney Hooker (D13F)_

"To your left!" I shout as Marcus charges at the girl. She must have been faking her score, that's the easiest way she could have killed Justine! Who knew she was hiding something?

On high alert I hear Marcus call my name and I'm aware of someone charging at me with a weapon. I roll to the side and Emily from District 7 chops the air. All three of them must have been in an alliance. Emily and I enter a brief but hectic battle that ends with my sword stabbing her in the ches. Marcus lets out a loud roar and slams Courtney's head into a thick red paste.

_14th, Courtney Hooker, District 13 Female, 17 years old, Maced by Marcus Dilecto (D2M)_

_13th, Emily Tanoki, District 7 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by LEon Tarn (D4M)_

Three cannons fire and we feel a strong wind from high above us. "Let's grab the supplies," Marcus says. "Can.. can you do that?" he asks.

I turn to him, confused, as he kneels in front of Justine. He whispers something quietly before he looks at her weapon. He decides to leave it with her and he brushes the hair out of her face. Looking at her in death she seems almost small, demure, peaceful, far from the rather normal but excitable girl out of our four strong alliances. Well, three strong now.

The hovercraft has taken Justine's victim up in the air so I'm left looking through the bodies of the two other victims. Courtney has a knife and what looks like a small bag of miscellaneous supplies. Emily is much better equipped than her partner. She has two bags and two axes and what looks like a clip on a water bottle. "Ready to go Marcus?" I ask quietly.

The two of us make the solemn trek back to camp.. I put a hand on Marcus' shoulder reassuringly and clamp tightly. A sigh escapes his lips as we walk up to Elizabeth. She opens her mouth, seeing the two of us alone, but then she closes it just as quickly. "I figured," she says, quieter and more respectful than I expected. "Did she go down fighting?"

Upon seeing us nod we enter a bit of silence. She didn't deserve to go down like that, down to some stupid rebel spawn. The most any of us can do is live for her.

"You know," Liz says after we set up the tents. "My grandmother told me that back in the old days there was this place called Valhalla or something like that. They said it was a place for warriors. She died with a weapon, right?"

Marcus nods quietly. "Valhalla is a place for warriors to party,. She may be dead but she'll come back to us, that is if Valhalla holds true." SHe glances at the two of us as we look at her quietly. "Hey, it's comforting for me. I know the common thing is to believe in reincarnation or something but I'd rather go to Valhalla. Does District 4 have an afterlife?"

"We just become one with the sea," I say with a shrug. "It's either that or we turn into fishes. What about you Marcus?"

He puts a finger to his chin and thinks about it. "I know that some people in District 2 believe in an eternal paradise. Others believe in a bunch of fire. I want to believe that life goes on. You just start anew. So yeah, I'm one of those people who believe in reincarnation. I don't want to give up on friendship too soon."

The conversation dies down as I put my hands out to be warmed by the fire. Marcus heads over and puts the bags into the supplies that we have. We still have a lot and with Justine's unfortunate death, we're gonna be able to indulge ourselves a little more, I guess. He brings over a bag and dumps the contents onto the forest floor. The tupperware of fish comes out and he grabs one, Liz grabs another, and I grab a third. "Do you think salt would help us preserve this?" Liz asks.

No sooner does she ask that does a small parachute comes down from the sky. Salt. Funny. "We can use that to preserve-"

A cannon interrupts my train of thought.

_12th, Bolt Takata, District 5 Male, 12 years old, Disemboweled by Ace Luciano (D1M)_

We grab our weapons, on guard, in case whatever triggered the canon was close. Only five minutes later do we put our weapons down. "...we'll find out tonight," Marcus says grimly. "And see off Courtney, Tritix, Emily, and Justine one last time. What were you saying, Leon?"

"Oh, umm, my parents were telling me that they used to use salt as preservatives, just put it in salt then in water. That was all it needed. If we can fill the tupperware with water and make a brine for the fish then it should last for longer," I say. "But let's just eat now."

Light conversation periodically pops up and dies quickly. As he finishes Marcus decides to clean himself in the water, even managing to brush his teeth for just a little bit, leaving me and Elizabeth to talk about each other. "Do you think Isaac got the other cannon?"

"The thirteen boy?" I ask. Upon seeing her nod in confirmation, I think about it. "He was strong. THe only other 11 outside of us."

"What did he do?"

"Beats me," I say. "He was practicing with a baton, throwing it up in the air and juggling it. And he was in the chemistry department for a long while. Maybe he just fucked one of the gamemakers?"

"Unlikely," she says. "I tried that and they 'respectfully' declined. So I did the next best thing with naked combat."

"Maybe he could have done that too? I took off my shirt for swimming and underwater combat, then i just jumped out and ran the course with three bags on my shoulders. Hardly an 11."

"Well, I thought I'd only get a 9. Being a sexy flirt is fun but they're hardly the smartest people around. Trust me, I tried to be one of them, but I just did too well with Algebra," she jokes.

"Stranger things have happened. I heard rumors that last year a 12 year old set a pool on fire," I shrug. Night falls as Marcus joins us, as clean as he can get in this outdoor arena.

We're about to ask him what he did for his training session when the anthem begins to play. Justine is the first face up and Marcus flashes a salute to her. Liz and I both bow our heads in respect for our fallen friend. Then after her is the boy from District 5. He was only 12, pretty good, but he could have done longer. At least he made it out of the bloodbath. After him is emily from District 7, my kill. Is it bad that I hardly feel anything as her face swims across the sky? Next up is Tritrix, and liz audibly gasps at that. Finally, the bitch who killed Justine appears in the sky. Marcus flashes her a middle finger just as the Capitol seal finally shows up.

"I thought she'd make it farther," Liz says.

"Who?" Marcus asks.

"Tritix from 9," Elizabeth says. "She got a 10! Who got her?"

"Justine," Marcus laments. His face looks particularly downtrodden in the low orange of the embers in front of us. "She got jumped by Courtney from 13. Fucking rebel," he gripes.

"Well, you avenged her," I say comfortingly. "Do you want to keep watch tonight? Just to clear your head?"

He turns to me with almost puppy dog eyes and nods. "And maybe I'll find some water to relax these eyes, don't ask me why they're huge."

The three of us share a laugh before we retreat into our tents. I grab a knife from the pile and put it under my bag, just in case Marcus falls during the night… or he pulls something like the boy from his district did last year.

I don't understand my dream. The river is red and the sky is purple. I wander through the arena floor and have a discussion with Justine. We talk. She tells me that Valhalla exists and she gives me a sword, my sword. She tells me the only way to get there is to kill her. I can't. Then she speaks in an ethereal voice and the sword overpowers me and pins me to the ground. I'm suddenly tasting tomatoes.

By the time I wake up I have my knife in my hand and I'm slashing at nothing. Totally discombobulated, I head out of the tent and head into the river. There's a lot more small fish this time, even a frog or two, and for a brief moment I see that my reflection has fangs. I blink away the reflection and push my hands in the water. Out they come holding two frogs and several tiny fish.

I find Marcus sitting at the fire-pit with his eyes closed. As I tap him on the shoulder he flails his weapon around. "Fuck," Marcus says. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep last night."

"No you were awake when I went out of the tent. Get some sleep Marcus. Unless you want to stay awake and watch me cook this frog."

"Did you eat shit like that in District 4?" he skeptically asks.

"Yeah," I say bluntly. "It's not that shit, and I thought we could use a change of pace from the fish."

"That's why you have those tiny things in your hands."

"Oh these things?" I hold up the gobies and he squints as he looks at them closely. "Yeah these aren't gonna fill us all. I did find more of them in there so if you want some I can easily grab some for you."

Marcus and I sit at the table when we hear a weird squawking. Concerned, we turn around to see some rather menacing looking birds. "Do you know what they are?" he asks me.

"Not any bird I know of." The bird cocks its orange neck and blue head before it turns around to the other members in its flock. Two of them break away but then one bird charges. Marcus dodges it running at him and trips over a log. He holds his hands over his face as he swipes at it with a sword. The other two birds run towards us and I hold out my sword.

Frantically, I run to Marcus and chop the bird pecking him. He throws the heavy bird away and jumps up to help me fend off the other two. Stumbling out of her tent, Elizabeth sees the birds and us in rather weird combat and pounces on one of them with an axe. It goes down instantly and the other bird goes beserk, nipping at my legs and flapping its wings at me. After what seems like forever Marcus finally is able to chop its neck off but its wings still flutter.

Breathing heavily, we all look at each other. "What the fuck was that?!" we all ask.

I look down at my legs to see some blood is coming. "I hope they aren't rabid."

"I hope they're edible," Liz says. "They seem meaty, except for those little legs."

"But first let's get you cleaned up, there's some alcohol and bandages in one of the communal bags," Marcus says. He grabs me by the hand and drags me over to a bag, instructing me to put my feet on the pile of supplies as he pulls out a tiny bottle of alcohol and what looks like twelve dozen tiny band-aids. "This may sting a bit."

"Not any more than those birds," I snort.

Marcus holds my legs up and he pours alcohol over the wounds. Yes, they sting, but once the bandaid goes over the pain seems to be gone. I pat him on the shoulder in a sign of thanks and several parachutes come down.

One of them is labeled 4, two are labeled 2, and one is labeled 1. I open my parachute first to see a picture of the birds we all killed. "Cassowary" the photo caption says. "Recovered from the wild population of what was once Indonesia. These birds are flightless and meaty." Also in the canister is a bit of cream and some sweet candy. _A little girl gave me enough money to send the photo and the cream. She actually wanted to send gum to you and how could I have said no? Kinickahau_

Later tonight I'll look at the cream. We reconvene after the bird attack and skin the birds. Hesitantly we take bites of them before we all deem it to be safe. "So, what was that bird?" Elizabeth asks once we're all done,

"Cassowaries," I say. "Let me show you." I hand the picture to Liz and she nods her head. She passes it over to Marcus and he takes little much but a cursory glance at it. "Well, mentor and escort and former District 4 representative in the capitol."

The conversation today is a lot more lighthearted than yesterdays. We eat, bathe, and act as normal as we can be. They didn't show much of this normalcy during the last couple of Hunger Games but I know it happened. They just didn't air them during mandatory viewing. Elizabeth tells about her exes, I talk about mine, and Marcus talks about his female crushes that he never acted on. We talk about our towns, we talk about our families, we talk about gossip.

It's not the most productive day but it's a day nonetheless. All too soon night falls and the anthem goes up before being replaced with darkness, as usual. "So, who's on watch today?" Elizabeth asks.

"I got it," Marcus volunteers.

"No, you took it last night," I object.

"Tomorrow you can take it Leon, I'll take it today," Liz says. "I could be wrong but I don't think I took watch. Justine was usually the one who did it. I guess I'll practice staying up. I'll pull my weight while this alliance lasts."

"Whatever you say Liz," Marcus says. "Come on Leon, let's turn in."

"Goodnight you two," she says with a smile.

I crawl into the tent first, as usual, and Marcus follows shortly after. "You know I've been thinking," Marcus says as he curls up in the blanket. "I know, dangerous. I really wish we would have been friends after the Hunger Games. Maybe then we'd…"

"Be normal?" He nods. "I don't think normal exists anymore. Not after killing as many as we did. If the situations were different then we'd…"

"Still be friends?" Marcus asks.

"I hope so. Maybe I'd visit you up in District 2. But no use about wondering what could have been."

"No I guess not," Marcus says sadly. "Hey, tomorrow can you show me how to catch fish? I… I don't think this alliance is going to last so I'm gonna need to fend for myself."

"Of course," I laugh. "Though I have a feeling that Liz wants to go hunting."

"I'll head with her… I think the sponsors, wherever they are, want me to be more action-oriented lately. I hope it's not Isaac. As rebellious he maybe, he's a worthy competitor."

"Well," I say, stretching out the l. "Goodnight I guess."

"Goodnight."

I don't dream this time. I stay asleep until the sun breaks through the holes and again to Marcus around my body. I lay there for a moment, no use trying to wake him up, before I poke him after a while. "Good morning Marcus," I say quietly.

A tint of red flushes to his face as he snaps his arms to his side. "Sorry Leon," he says. "But yeah, I'm willing to grab some breakfast."

"Let's let Liz get some sleep too," I recommend.

The two of us walk out to see Liz standing over the fire, poking it occasionally. Marcus takes Liz gently by the shoulders into her tent and she gets to sleep. When Marcus comes out I'm already at our creek bed. I strip off my shirt and wade in the water, diving down to grab a rather long fish, and hand it to Marcus. He looks at it like one would regard a baby. "Umm, what do I do with this?"

"Put it on the ground and you try catching a fish now," I say. "They're still biting."

Marcus heads into the water, rolling up his shorts and making a leap to grab some smaller fish. After five jumps he finally manages to head out of the water with a single fish in tow. Sheepishly he smiles and holds his prize upward. "Is that really all there is?"

I put on a playful smile and we take the fish to the fire, where I show him how to skin it with a small, clean, untouched knife. He makes the cuts clumsy and grills a portion of his fish too black but still edible. The rest of his fish is better cooked. Elizabeth stumbles out of the camp to see Marcus cooking the fish and me putting the pieces into the tupperware containers.

"Thanks guys, but I thought it was usually the womenfolk who did that shit," Liz says.

"You stayed up all night for us, and we've been doing this much longer than you have," I roll my eyes. "So what's the plan for today?"

"Hunt," she says sadly. "I really wish we could have gotten more people at the cornucopia. It would have been easier for them and much easier for us. And they might have died in a better way than how Justine… Sorry about that."

Marcus curls his lips as he finishes his final bite of fish. "It might as well be us. Let's just make it quick."

"I'll stay," I offer.

"Fine by me," Liz says. Marcus readily agrees and the two wash up in the river before heading off with a bag and some supplies. It worries me that they're gonna talk about backstabbing me… or worse Elizabeth backstabbing Marcus.

I probably should have gone with them.

I wipe my head with my shirt and recline on the floor, staring at the sky for something, keeping watch gets boring. _Yet I hope I'm giving my fans a good show_.

No sooner does that thought cross my mind when a parachute comes down. It's longer than the others, but also rounder. I open it up to see a bundle of fresh fruit and a bouquet of bandages. _The capitol likes you, but they want you to break up the alliance, Kinnickahau._

It's gonna have to happen. It's gonna have to happen. With all hope we're going to get out of this unscathed. What day is it? Day 4? 5? It's hard to keep track, and I feel like the games are still getting started. The sun moves forward in the day and I begin to wonder just where the others are.

A cannon fires and I sit up, looking around alert. Who was the victim? Who was the killer? Is it important? Probably not but I keep a sword of mine close to my body and stand alert. My heartbeat dies down as the shock of the cannon firing seems to disappear.

_11th, Landon Ryerson, District 9 Male, 17 years old, Slashed by Elizabeth Dowager (D1F)_

Again the boredom comes. I resort to doing pushups and situps against the forest floor, getting rather dirty as a result, but it's something to keep my mind on it. As I finish my one hundred and twentieth pushups, both Marcus and Elizabeth finally return. "Find some good treasure?"

Marcus peels off his shirt and wipes his head. Liz seems to have forgone a shirt. "One," Marcus says grimly.

"Landon," Liz says, a whole lot more demure than usual. "I really liked him but he just kept squirming and squirming. Marcus and I got him down."

"Liz got the killing blow," Marcus says. "He put up a good fight."

The two of them seem to be a whole lot more silent even as several packages come down for them. One of Marcus' has a rather tight-fitting muscle shirt and Elizabeth gets a crop top. Elizabeth opens up another package to find a couple of canned drinks and Marcus opens his second one to reveal some kind of hollow container. "Well," Elizabeth says, breaking the silence. "I'm drinking this fruit punch to Landon."

"He was a fighter to the end," Marcus laments. He too gets one of the cans of fruit punch and Liz tosses one to me.

We raise our drinks and down them all, throwing the cans around the fire. "If he was as strong as you say, then he should be honored." My contribution to the conversation, or lack thereof, has very little recognition between us all, and then I'm aware that the arena seems hotter.

I head into the water to sit by the stream before I'm joined by Liz and Marcus. The water laps over our legs and fish seem ready to nibble. As the day goes on, the sky slowly turns red, before finally turning black. By some miracle, our fire is still going. I step up from the river and grab some firewood from the ground, putting it into the fire before the anthem finally plays.

There's only one face in the sky. Landon. Now that I see his face I remember the clown of us all. He always tried putting a face on the younger tributes and actually went to the stage with a smile for the escort. But we could tell he was always angry. His face is promptly replaced with the capitol seal and then the anthem runs its course. "Goodnight," Elizabeth says, stepping up from the riverbank with a splash.

"Night." Marcus still sits at the riverbank as I get into a good position for the overnight watch. From the looks of it he's thinking about something, and he sounds like he's splashing a little. I grab a sword from the pile of weapons and sharpen it in order to occupy my time. As I do so, Marcus joins me, silently. "I've got it tonight, don't worry."

"I know. I just wanted to sit next to you for a while. Tomorrow?"

"Day after tomorrow," I reply. "Did you and Liz talk about something? I hope you two aren't gonna gut me like a fish."

"No," Marcus says. "I l-respect you more than that. I'm not into the torture. Remus mentioned that a lot of Capitolites like blood and I can give that, just not… not torture."

"Well there's no torture going on yet, so we're safe. I can one hundred percent tell you that I won't torture you. Nor Liz for that matter."

He breaks down, burying his hands in his head. "Liz and I tried to get Landon to stop moving, tried to get him to calm down, we just wanted to make it quick," he hiccups. "But he punched me and kicked Liz and…. I know we're supposed to do it but it doesn't change the fact that-"

I hug him tightly. He calms down and hiccups once. "I can't promise you that it'll get better, but you're still alive. You have enough time to come to peace."

The two of us don't talk as we sit still. "I'm not looking forward to the rest of the days. I just want to… just die in my sleep."

I pat him on his head and he heads out of the hug. "Head to sleep big guy," I calmingly say. "I've got watch."

After another five minutes he finally goes to the tent, waving me goodnight and I hear him snoring and coughing in his sleep. The watch passes through slowly. The fire briefly talks for a minute. It sings a song of death and destruction and hope and love. It sounds like Marcus and Elizabeth and Justine and Avalon and Ace all at once. I hear the tributes through the fire and I close my eyes to prevent the noise from breaking through.

By the time I open my eyes the sky is much lighter. I curse myself as I head to the water and splash myself. In the brief moments my eyes are closed I see the boys from 10 and 11 and the girls from 8 and 7. I shake myself again and they disappear and somehow I've fallen into the river. There are more frogs this time around. When I head out of the water I find that a package is down for me. I open it to find no note, just a small towel. Nice.

It takes another hour for both Liz and Marcus to wake up. We exchange small conversations about our homes and our favorite animals before I can't stay awake any longer. Patting both of them on the shoulders, I head into my tent and sleep, curled in a ball, and actually dream this time.

It's not a pretty dream by any means. I dream that Marcus is holding me down as Elizabeth is swinging an axe again and again into my stomach. The water returns and I'm on a raft spiraling into the saltwater ocean of the arena before the raft tips over. I'm falling, falling again through the ocean, and by the time I wake up I'm drenched in sweat that I wipe away with my light blue towel.

I head out and it's already rather red. Marcus and Elizabeth don't seem to be talking as much as yesterday, maybe the effects of the previous day wore on them.

We're half tempted to look to the sky and ask for some form of stimulation when the day turns into night and the temperature still remains lukewarm.

As tempted as I am to comment on the weather, there's a heavier topic on all of our minds. "Do we want to split up tomorrow?" Marcus asks, putting a small stick into the fire.

"There's only what? 7 others left?" Elizabeth asks. I nod grimly. "If I die I'd rather not die to any of you two but the fact of the matter is we're the strong alliance of the arena. We could be targeted if we stick together."

"How so?" I perk an eyebrow up as I slowly think of a scenario. My thought is interrupted by the anthem but otherwise continues unimpeded once it ends. "The other 7 could gang up on us one at a time to eliminate us, but I know that Ace and Avalon are still out there, so there's at least 2 more who won't kill us yet."

"They might not last long either," Marcus comments. "I say tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Liz says.

"Tomorrow we divide supplies then leave when the sun is high in the sky." I push some dirt onto the fire. "I assume no one is keeping watch?" I receive no objections and stand up in the darkness, heading over to the tent with my backpack. From the sounds of it Elizabeth and Marcus head into their tents too.

I go to sleep facing away from Marcus. I don't think he wants to see a mask of distress on my face when I go to sleep. Tonight I dream that the tent collapses and suffocates Marcus before I head out to see a fish firing a cannon. The cannon fires my head off and then I fly over the arena. I can see that there are 3 tropical islands with enough fish for days, enough for a sanctuary of some sorts if they do open it up for health. Way below I see… the cornucopia battlefield, except I'm being beaten by the youngest tributes of the year.

By the time I wake up, Marcus has his arms around me, like he always has. I wake him up and prod him off of me. He wakes up with a fright and sheepishly scratches his head. From the sounds of it Elizabeth is out and munching on something. Marcus and I head out, not really willing to stop her, and she looks up guiltily. "I got hungry."

"We did too," Marcus says. The three of us look at the pile of supplies and weapons with one thing on our minds. "How are we going to divide it?"

My mind flickers back to the two main backpacks I've been using and it seems like Elizabeth and Marcus have been doing the same thing. "I've got two main backpacks. I'll take another, maybe three random ones, and a couple of weapons." I follow Elizabeth's gaze and she's already eyeing a sword- the sword that Kinnickahau got me as a sponsor gift.

"Does it matter who goes first?" I ask. "And what do we do with the remainders?"

"Chuck them in the river," Marcus says darkly. "So that no one else can use them."

"Right, then who goes first?" Liz still asks.

A final parachute for the three of us comes down. Inside are three straws of varying length and a drawstring bag. It must have been rather cheap. "Long straw gets first pick. No one gets the raft, the tents, just whatever we have in our backpacks. We have our sponsors, and we thank them," Elizabeth says.

The three of us look at each other as I put the straws in the bag. I close it tightly, toss it a couple of times, give it to everyone to shake, and then we draw. By luck, I've gotten the longest. Elizabeth gets the second and Marcus gets the shortest. I stand up from our circle and head to the pile of supplies. There are a lot of big bags, just as many medium bags, and hardly any little bags. The big bags are liable to be held on the back, the middle ones can suffice with one shoulder, and the little bags can drape over our hands. After some deliberation I made the decision to take two medium bags and a little bag. I pick up my sword from the weapons and another rather long spear. That's about it.

Elizabeth takes a big bag and two little bags from the pile. After that, she grabs two small rolls of knives and two swords. Marcus, seeing what happened, takes one bag of each size and two small hatchets. "Well that settles it," Liz says.

We put our stockpiles in separate parts of the campground and begin throwing away the rest of the camp. The weapons are the first to go into the water. Once all of them are deeply submerged the tents are next to follow. None of us really want to take them when we already have so much stuff. Finally, the raft is turned upside down and sent down the river on a lazy meandering course.

We look at each other one last time before Liz breaks the silence. "Ladies first I guess." She walks to the both of us and hugs us tightly, before she heads off in a random direction, counting to one hundred. Is she closing her eyes? She must be if she trips ever so slightly, though that can be because of her large bag.

Marcus and I share a glance at each other before I feel him clench my hand tightly. "Before we split, I want to tell you." His dark grey eyes seem set with determination and for a second I'm sure I'm going to die. In an instant, he relaxes and opens his mouth. "I'm in love with you. I know this isn't supposed to happen and I don't want this weighing on you but I want to tell you this. I want to tell you this because I'd rather die having loved an amazing man like you once before loving someone never again"

I clench his hand closely and look him dead set in the eyes. "Thanks for telling me, I always had a feeling." A bit of awkward silence follows before I lean in for a kiss.

He backs away hesitantly before he drops his bags and sweeps me off my feet, planting a firm kiss on my lips. "My first kiss," he laments. "Leon, if I don't win, I want you to win and find the perfect love for you. Thank you."

Marcus helps me to a steady stance and we hug each other once before he picks up his supplies and heads off 90 degrees counterclockwise from where Elizabeth marched off. With a weary sigh, I fix my bags on a spear and put it on my shoulder, walking off 90 degrees from where Marcus marched off to, sure that I'll never see either of them again.

I'm lost in my thoughts of Marcus and Elizabeth when I feel the soft sand on my feet. I take a deep breath and drop my supplies to the sand. A small cloud pools at my feet before I look forward. There's a sand bridge exposed and several small rocky structures out into the ocean. It's just like my dream. I take a step forward onto the sand bridge and find it stable. Satisfied, I look around me to see that no one is trailing me, before I begin to rush over the sand bridge.

I lose my balance a couple of times but I do make it over the bridge and the sun is still high in the sky. I trudge further into the forested island before I find a suitable pond. My supplies fall from my back and I take a look at what's in front of me, scouting the area before I finally decide to head into the water.

It's warm but not too warm, cold but not too cold, and a whole lot of other things that it is but it isn't. I swam in the small pond for the rest of the day, the stress melting away in the water as it always had back home. I get out of the water and I see some Cattails on it. That means that there's food. And if need be I can hunt. It's as good a camp as any.

The blue turns into red and I begin to set up my supplies. In the two medium bags I've pulled there's a giant piece of flatbread, some raw bacon, some salt flavoring, a collapsible spear, a set of blow darts, some apples, some miscellaneous pills, bandages, and a small tube of cream. In the smallest bag I've gotten there's a tarp that unfolds to what must be fifty feet, just as long a piece of twine and some tape. Hardly anything but it could be worse. I have my spear and some knives with me, plus my sword. I think I should be set, but I'm always open for the Capitol's presents.

I break open the bread and put some raw bacon in it. It's not the best meal but it works. I better ration out what I have, tomorrow I'm going hunting. It's gonna be a rough deal no matter what I find, but I can scavenge and I can hold my own in a fight. How long has it been here? What if I can't hold my own in a fight anymore?

To get my mind off of the myriad of questions flowing through, I sort through my packs and set up camp. Setting my rope across a pair of sturdy trees I put my tarp over it and create a manageable shelter. At least until the wind blows it away. With a sigh I head into the pond and bring up several different rocks, weighing it down and keeping it taut.

It's respectable and a good store for several of my supplies. Satisfied, I head into the tent as the day slowly turns into night. With how I've laid out the tarp I have enough room for some light bodyweight exercises. The anthem blares after I've made the umpteenth switch. To be sure I'm not missing anything, I head out of my tent and look at the sky. No, there are no faces, and the Capitol seal disappears with a lot of fanfare.

How many people are left?

There were 9 in the bloodbath, then the boy later that day. days later Justine died with 4 others. Or was it three others? Well, four people died the same day with Justine, so there's 15 gone in the first couple of days. Another day later it was I think… Landon. Yeah, Landon.

So that leaves me, Marcus, Elizabeth, Ace, Avalon, the 6 boy, and the 13 boy. Wait no, that's only 7. There's some more… I think 3 more? 4 more?

I'm too tired to think today. I sleep with a sore back and a rather twitchy foot. It'll pass by the end of the night, at least I hope so. The weather is pretty good so I shouldn't have problems.

When I do sleep it's relatively simple this time. I'm talking with Marcus and Elizabeth just as my parents' ship come in. The haul is… troubling. There are weapons and backpacks and even the corpses of another tribute. Marcus pulls me away from the haul and we talk about the weather. The dream ends just as he puts an apple on a dead seagull.

I wake up confused, tired, and more importantly hungry. Though I want to break into my supply of premade food I want to check out the pond for more supplies. As I head out of the tent it is to my shock that it's still dark outside.

With a knife in hand I head out into the pond, alert and looking for food. A giant turtle swims into my hands as I begin to relax. I let it go, I can't eat raw turtle. I find a handful of oysters as my toe clips one. Luckily there's no bleeding and I pick up a large handful of them. Satisfied, I head out of the water and grab some firewood to start a blaze. I'm sure that it's not the safest thing to do but I'm confident that I can take out anyone who sees me.

This time it takes longer to start a fire. By the time the fire is up, it's already daylight but by some miracle there isn't any smoke. Relieved, I put the oysters on a stick and slowly hold it over the blaze. The fire cooks the oysters and the smell reminds me of home. It's been almost a week if not more and I'm sure my parents have half disowned me.

I just want to go home.

I eat three oysters and put the rest back in the pond. I pick up my sword from the forest floor and head out, five hundred steps in every direction before returning.

It's on my one thousand and fifty first step outward that I stumble on a camp. A younger tribute, a boy, is sleeping peacefully against a rock and holding his bag closely. He has no weapon near him and he continues to sleep. Do I really have to do this?

The boy rolls over in his sleep and I lean over as quietly as I can. As my hands shake he snores for the briefest of moments. I stab my sword into his head. The cannon fires instantly.

_10th, Coalton Bowser, District 12 Male, 12 years old, Stabbed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

I restrain the vomit and my tears and I slowly yank the bag from his corpse. It gives easily. I run back to the camp and head into the water, screaming. He couldn't have been older than 13. After what seems to be too long I head out, my head cleared and sit on the pond bed and look through his stuff.

He has three half-eaten energy bars, an untouched apple, an untouched bag of jerky, some socks, mittens, and what looks like a shirt that was perfect for him. On the outside of the bag he has a little canteen and two pills of iodine. Taking great care, I fill the canteen with pond water and drop the iodine pills in.

The day passes slowly and to be honest, I don't remember much of it. I caught more fish, took care of the fire, and laid in the tarp. The boy's face passes through the sky. If Marcus was here he'd tell me in a heartbeat exactly who he was and I'd feel 100% guilty.

I don't exactly know when I fall asleep but I guess I do. The day is much like the previous one. I grab some food from the pond, cook it over the fire, eat it, take a break from hunting this time, and swim in the pond because… well, I'm bored.

A cannon fires and I jump out of the water and scramble to my sword. Not fifteen minutes later another cannon fires. Two cannons. I think that puts us in the top 7 if my math is right but I hate math and I've never been good at it.

_9th, Chanterelle Gramblin, District 11 Female, 15 years old, Stabbed by Avalon Schooner._

_8th, Ace Luciano, District 1 Male, 16 years old, Partially decapitated by Avalon Schooner._

Again, the day goes by quickly, and I don't really focus on the nothing that goes on during the rest of the day. I think I do push-ups and strip naked at least once but honestly, I think I didn't cook the fish right.

My thoughts are confirmed when I run behind a tree and blow chunks. From the sky, a parachute comes down. The message is brief this time. _Don't fuck up, cook you nitwit! Kinickahau_ . In the package are some comfort pills, as the label says. I pop one in and my stomach feels instantly better. I'm tempted to take one with every meal before I look at the pill bottle. It says it's a cure-all thing but there are only 6 pills and it may induce exhaustion.

I definitely feel it after night falls. In the sky there is Ace, and then there is the District 11 girl. Sadly, I turn into my tarp, and dream of, as usual, weird shit.

I don't know what shoots me up, some kind of foreboding feeling, some kind of dread, but the Hunger Games must continue. I eat more of my bread and heat up some bacon before taking a bite of some fruit. With a set face I head out, this time walking a thousand steps in all eight main directions.

On step seven thousand, five hundred forty-three, I find a camp. With my sword at the ready someone dashes into my field of vision. It's the District 13 boy, Isaac. "District 4," he says. "Leon."

"Isaac," I reply. "District 13."

He looks good for a couple of days in the arena, but from the snort that escapes his lips, I musn't look as handsome, or as handsome as I used to. His broad shoulders tense up as he takes a step forward. He's shirtless and his skin looks burnt. Suddenly I feel a lurch in my stomach and Isaac must sense that I'm kind of uncomfortable. We shared a few laughs in training, a few flirts even, I'm sure he's remembering that as he takes several uneasy shuffles towards me.

Isaac makes the first move, throwing a small knife from his belt that I easily dodge. I charge at him with my sword and leap upward. He throws another knife as he rolls over. I barely dodge this one and he's already on his feet when I'm on my knees. I must have landed wrong but I must power through it.

Another knife whizzes by my head and I take the opportunity to run up and slash him. He slashes at my sword with a knife but a small cut appears on his abdomen. He lets out a grunt and takes his last knife, one much bigger than the others, and manages a cut on my left bicep. I howl in pain as I tackle him, punching him as he angles his knife upward and gets me in the other arm.

He's strong enough to roll me over and punch me in the eye several times. I bite through the pain and kick him off of me, grabbing my sword and slicing him across the back as he donkey kicks me right where it hurts the most. As I bend over in pain he knees me in the face and leaves a shallow cut on my face. His knife lands in my left hand and I hiss in pain before I get to punch him in the gut. He falls but he drags me down with him. He gets over me and tries to angle my knife on my chest, almost breaking skin before I flip over and get him down. Again he kicks me down and looms over me. Breathing heavily, he's about to punch me when I thrust my sword upward. .

Isaac Manhattan falls down in shock as I take the sword out of him. He gurgles in pain and I slash him again in the stomach before finally swinging my sword into my head. The boy Liz and I befriended during training is breathing no more.

_7th, Isaac Manhattan, District 13 Male, 18 years old, Slashed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

I grab his one backpack and rush back to camp. Like an angel from above I'm flanked with several parachutes high above me. Worriedly I grab two of them and open them up. Inside are a bunch of bandages and antibiotic cream that I use to cover my arms. It's gonna be a rest day for me tomorrow.

I look to the sky and thank the sponsors for what they've given me. I look at my hand and find that there's enough plaster in one of the parachutes to form even a small cast. I must either be very popular or the Capitol chose to give these to the winner of that battle.

I spend the rest of the day taking it easy, washing up in the stream and changing into less filthy clothes. As I prepare for the night a massive parachute comes down with a steak, mashed potatoes, and even a light drink and utensils. Starved, I eat the steak in no time and down the mashed potatoes and gulp the drink well.

The anthem appears with Isaac's handsome face in the sky and I bow my head in respect. Like with Marcus and Elizabeth and all the others, I really wish we met in another life.

I don't know when I fall asleep but when I wake up I find that the cuts on my hands are all healed. I'll never find out what the messages from Kinnick were to me from last night. I take it easy today, just do a lot of sitting and thinking and eating. A turtle comes up from the pond and we just talk. I think I call him Franklin at least once.

Franklin hides in his shell when a cannon fires. I reassure him when I'm sure that everything else is safe.

_6th, Marcus Dilecto, District 2 Male, 17 years old, Strangled by Avalon Schooner (D4F)_

Franklin doesn't talk much. He heads back into the pond, leaving me alone again. After another hour of just sitting in the sun as the pond water pools over my feet another cannon fires.

_5th, Avalon Schooner, District 4 Female, 17 years old, Axed by Elizabeth Dowager (D1F)_

I wonder if Franklin does well. The day goes on and the sunbeams high and hot. I daydream of the sailors of times long ago. The stories of Odysseus, Captain Drake, Captain EJ Smith. All those captains made success no matter where they were.

The day finally turns into night and the anthem plays. I have to watch to see who died. To my worst fear, the first face in the sky is Marcus. If I make it out of here I have to thank his family, let them know what I felt… because only too late I realize that I did feel something more than camaraderie.

The next face hurts just as much. Avalon. Her hard-set eyes tinkle in the night like the stars she so used during her night time journeys through District 4. We weren't close, but we did see each other in passing in District 4. She had a rebellious brother who got executed. She has three more back home. Three more who are counting on her. Were counting on her.

The anthem ends and I realize that if nothing else, I owe it to Marcus and Avalon to make it home.

The next day goes by too quickly for my liking. The pond dries up and I see Franklin and his friends move off into the wilderness. Staring off into the wilderness, I dig into my stash of dwindling food and finish off the bread and the bacon. Still hungry I go on a hunt. I find some relatively safe berries and a squirrel. It's not much but it's protein and vitamins.

As I eat, I realize that I'm gonna have to dismantle camp and move. I sure do hope there's gonna be some kind of water feature available. I'm willing to bet that if there's one pond there are going to be others. Disgruntled, I decide to leave behind a bag full of refuse and other waste products and just put it into the dried up pond floor. Maybe Franklin can find a use for it.

The camp goes down and I grab my bags and move to another pond. I don't know how long the trek to a new camp is, but it's more than a thousand steps, probably more than five thousand, but I find a smaller pond that is teeming with life. The camp goes up and I scavenge for sustenance. I'm sure the roots on the ground are edible, and I'm sure I could have spent more hours spending time at the edible root station or whatever it is.

It doesn't change the fact that I get a haul of mussels and fish for my dinner tonight. I finish the mussels and eat the fish before I just stare into the pond. A sense of dread looms over me and I grab some more fish and some mussels and put them into one of the sponsor canisters that I got days ago. The capitol anthem plays just as the sun goes down, a little early if I do say so myself, and there are no faces in the sky.

I stay up a little while longer before I retreat into my tarp. It's not as well equipped as last time but it works. I feel like the games are ending soon. Knowing the capitol they want us to go to the center of the arena, which means a whole lot more water to deal with. I'm gonna have to either create a raft for my stuff or create something out of the debris in the arena. Or I could go it alone.

Sleep creeps up on me like it has for the past couple of days. Tonight I dream of the arena except there's a house. All twenty six of us have beds and it's a big, big, happy family. I turn a corner to see Marcus holding out a tray of fish as he smiles bashfully. I blink once and then the house is destroyed, corpses taking the place of Marcus and everyone else. Blood comes from the walls and I wake up, sweating and breathing heavily.

It's still dark when I head outside. I take a knife with me and head into the pond, noting that it's much lower than yesterday. I make a sweep and bring up two small pitiful fish. It'll have to do. I sit in front of a tree and peel off the fish, waiting for the sun to break through.

Not five minutes later do I hear some footsteps behind me. A branch snaps and I head around the tree, dropping my fish and racing out with my knife. I'm not used to using a knife but it's gonna have to do if I get into combat. I hear a war cry and a boy rushes towards me with an axe in his hands.

He swings, I dodge, his axe gets lodged in a tree helplessly. Before he can do anything about it I'm behind him, he's short, young, and fearful. I pull his hair back and slit his throat, dropping his body to the ground as he releases the grip on his axe. Holding back vomit I grab his small bag of possessions and head back to camp. To my dismay, I've lost my fish, but then a parachute comes down just as the cannon fires.

_4th, Edsel Citrom, District 6 Male, 14 years old, Throat slit by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

The sun finally appears in the sky and I can actually look at the contents of the parachute. Some dried fruit, a lot more beef jerky than I'll probably need, some eggs, and a small skillet. I set up a small fire with the provided two matches and hold the egg over the skillet. Now that there are three of us I'm sure that the Hunger Games will end soon.

After breakfast is done I dig through the bag that the boy carried with him. Inside is just an egg, some water wings, a small floatable raft, and some rope. That helps out with the issue of carrying my supplies. Wait, do I even need that many weapons when the finale comes? It's probably no, but it can't hurt to be prepared.

I take down the camp, tie the rope to the small inflatable, and head out to the shore I know that there is. I look around for the cornucopia and head towards it on a bridge. It's gonna be a slow walk but I've shed some of my weight, and the weapons I hold are my sword and a spear in the inflatable raft. All that's left of the rest of camp is the tarp, the rope, and some food that I hold in my hands.

The raft goes in my water. The rope I wrap around my waist. Weapons and food both go in my hands. The walk is long but I can afford to kill time by taking it leisurely. My shirt is covered with sweat by the time I make it to the inner ring of the arena. I hoist the supplies over the ring and plop into the water. Some of the bags fall to the water, no big loss.

The swim is nothing even with the rope around my waist. I make record time to the cornucopia and sit in it.

While I sit and think the day turns into night and the anthem plays. The pit of dread in my stomach grows as it's confirmed that the boy, who I now know to be from District 6, is so much younger than I. I've killed 2 young boys… what do my little siblings think of me?

The anthem goes and the face disappears. I know the games will end tomorrow. It's my intuition and I know that the games are coming to an end. They want a battle with me and Elizabeth and whoever ends with me. Somehow I'm able to get the tarp to go over the mouthpiece of the cornucopia and it's a good defense against the winds of the night.

When I go to sleep I dream that I'm welcomed home to District 4. I step off of the train but District 4 is still the arena. Out of the water are the District 6 boy, the District 12 boy, the girl from 7, and the girl from D3. I fight them off but then Marcus pulls me in for another kiss. It's a trap, of course, and he's just a siren who pins me to the ground and tears me into 13 pieces. I'm still screaming when I wake up, sopping wet.

Standing up, I find that I'm ankle deep in water, and that the tarp is flying open. Fed up, I tear at the tarp with my sword to see Elizabeth on the other side. The two of us stare at each other. She's sopping wet and has determination in her eyes and a sturdy stance. "Leon."

"Liz."

I tighten my grip on the sword. "There's one left but I'd rather go down to someone I like," Liz says. "I've got a boy back home to make it to?"

I raise an eyebrow. "My Valour will kill me if I don't make it back to our Carat."

The two of us stare at each other, my hand on my sword and her hand on a knife. "I really wish we were in better straits." The tarp hits my head and I bat it out of the way. "I'll do what I can to help him out."

"Ditto."

Again we stare at each other, unblinking, unmoving. Her knuckles turn white and it's a small movement, but a movement nonetheless. I push myself against the cornucopia wall as a hiss comes from the wall. It's fucking inflatable. The urge to laugh is almost irresistible as I swing my sword outward and get her in her arm. She hisses in pain and pulls out a hatchet that she's been concealing behind her.

She lands a blow on my shoulder. I growl in pain as I swing my sword upward along her mid-line. She stumbles back and struggles to regain her balance. "I'm sorry," I barely manage to get out as I turn the sword up into her chin. She falls to the ground and the water around the cornucopia island turns a little pink.

_3rd, Elizabeth Dowager, District 1 Female, 18 years old, Slashed by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

I take her body into the water and gently lower her into it. She sinks to the bottom, eyes closed as though she will wake up soon, She falls down, down, down. I close my eyes as I will her to go to a better place, a happy place, one where she can meet Valour and Carat. I took her from one life and I don't want to take her from another.

A sharp pain hits my shoulder blade. The District 8 boy stands stoically from a distance of 20 yards or so. He has a bow and one more arrow. I look at him once before I feign more hurt than I actually am and fall into the water.

Even underneath I hear him running to where I've fallen. Does he think that I'm falling to the center of this arena? Does he think that I am still alive? What does he think?

With the sword in my hand I claw myself up to the cornucopia platform. It's sinking. Funny. I make many loud steps towards him and he turns, letting his only arrow fly above my head. Furious, I grab him by the arms and yank him to the center. He fights back, biting and kicking and clawing.

I admit, it stings, and there's still an open wound on my shoulder that's bleeding. And bleeding.

It looks like the boy actually manages to laugh at my misery. I don't know how it happens but I find a foothold and pin him down. He's lost all of his strength but I've almost lost all of mine. He's begging for mercy, begging for a reprieve.

I raise my sword.

And he gets it.

_2nd, Zeke Hewman, District 8 Male, 15 years old, Skewered by Leon Tarn (D4M)_

I can barely stand as the trumpets ring. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the victor of the 4th Annual Hunger Games, Leon Tarn of District 4!"

A claw comes down for me, but it stops some 20 feet high and deploys a ladder. Adrenaline coursing through my body, I scale it. I can finally rest.

_Leon Tarn was as ready to enter the Capitol as much as the Capitol was ready for him After a day of rest and relaxation he nailed his victor's interview out of the park. Still delirious, Leon cheered and watched his games with glee, playing the role that many victors would consider him a laptop. His reception with the victors was initially tepid but as the days went on, Remus, Duke, and finally Paisley were all able to welcome him into their circle._

_In District 4, they were nervous at first, nervous to welcome a shark back to their districts. But once Leon stepped out of the train, the fears turned to cheers as many realized that they wouldn't be getting one of those victors who treated the games as a career. Parcel day meant that Leon's rather massive family could get their own boats, and it was one of the finest private fleets there was._

_Leon's victory tour passed and was received colder than the previous three. The four lowest districts all lost their boy to the victor and regarded him as little more than an animal. In District 10 the older brother of the District 10 boy punched Leon before he was summarily executed. District 8 was angry but quickly calmed as Paisley looked into the crowd of her district._

_The lower the district, the better reception he got. Surprisingly enough, District 3 was respectful for his visit, thanking him for giving their girl a quick death rather than a prolonged fight. In District 2, he was treated to a steak laden over a piece of stone by Marcus' family, who thanked him for the joy that he brought Marcus. In district 1, Leon would begin a decade-long tryst that the common folk would regard as a 'friends with benefits' situation with Duke._

_After the tryst ended, Leon would become a serial dater before marrying twice, briefly to a man and ending with a woman. Through his relationships, he would father 5 children. Leon died at the age of 87 during the 73rd Hunger Games, surrounded by his living legacy. Though he would not see a descendant of his enter the games, almost 30 years after his death one of his descendants would occupy a house in the Victor's Village._


	9. Musings of a Rancher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fifth Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 05, A RANCHER'S MUSINGS:** _

_**Name: Geryon Rimmer** _

_**District: 10** _

_Age: 18_

Directed by Helen Reign (District 1)

Many experts agree that it was Leon's victory that kick started more training efforts from the youths of Panem. In District 2, they were guided by their patriotism and desire to be seen as an honorable citizen. District 1's residents saw the benefits of Duke's victory and were able to live on a level of luxury comparable to the poorest of the capitol residents. Leon would follow in Duke and Remus' footsteps in establishing a school devoted to the Hunger Games but ostensibly for survival skills.

The year of the fifth Hunger Games was when the peacekeepers started taking in individuals from Districts other than District 2. Most of these recruits were high in debt and desperate for money and encompassed less than 5 percent of the official force but were subject to the same 20 year contract. "We hope that this act of patriotism helps change perception of our bold men in white," President del Ave was later heard quoting.

District 4 experienced the first boom of capitol visitors, facilitating the opening of the first Capitol-District resort close to the main square. This would propel District 4 into the richer half of Districts and further its growth into further outlying islands.

Yet many of the residents felt as though the Hunger Games would undo all of their progress.

This year, the twenty six tributes were far more evenly matched up. The District 1 tributes were both blond students of Duke's school of thought and were rather similar to their district's previous tributes. District 2 presented their youngest male tribute, a twelve year old son of granite miners, and similarly provided one of their youngest reaped females. District 3 produced rather typical tributes, both were black haired and scrawny, but the boy was scarred along his forearms.

The tributes from District 4 were both rather tall and strong and presented good odds upon arrival. District 5 produced two redheads who were smart but didn't stand out otherwise. District 6 reaped another pair of tributes who knew each other before the Hunger Games, no small feat due to the fact that District 6 was the most populous district in Panem at the time. The boy reaped was easily one of the contenders but the female, his girlfriend, was spineless and showed all the signs of being an addicted morphling. It would later come out that they were in an abusive relationship.

Districts 7, 8, and 9 all had tributes that were all able to slip through the cracks and fall under the radar. They found a steady fandom in the capitol but were largely overshadowed by the larger tributes of the year. The boy from District 10 was handsome and a classic underdog pick but he stood on stage as nervous as his skinnier district partner. Two twelve year olds were reaped from District 11, the girl cried for her family as she was pulled on stage and the boy threw up. District 12 reaped two other reaped tributes and District 13 produced tributes comparable to the contenders in 7, 8, and 9 and even the inner districts.

The parades were quieter compared to other years. The rather beautiful girl from District 4 was an immediate standout with her flowing, rippling dress meant to emulate the crest of a waterfall. The girls from 1 and 2 wowed the crowd with a rather frilly dress and a rather stylized knight costume. The boys from the middle Districts of 6, 9, and 10 were all able to make an impact with their handsome faces and charming demeanors. The other tributes were relative duds.

When training started the next day, Districts 1, 2, and 4 formed a tentative alliance that would last through the final eight. This was hallmarked as the first official forming of the career alliance. The tributes from District 6 mainly stood by each other, as the boy would remain rather attached to his girlfriend. Another alliance would be formed between the tributes from Districts 7, 8, and 9 that would come into play if they all made it past the bloodbath. In future Hunger Games the 7-9 alliance would be refined to an alliance on par with the weakest of the careers, but for this Hunger Games they were merely a respectable rival.

The next day in training the other tributes found themselves changing up their alliances. The boy from District 7 would splinter off from his alliance and spend the rest of training rather isolated. The tributes from the outlying districts- dubbed cannon fodder by the inner tribute alliance- would largely choose to be independent, save for the twelve-year-old pair from district eleven. Following the boy from District 7's strategy, or rather inspiring the district 7 male's strategy, was the District 10 male. The male from district 13 would also follow this strategy.

The evaluations the next day proved that this batch of tributes was relatively weaker than the previous year;s. It was either that or that the game makers had loftier standards after the strong showings of the tributes from the previous year. The male from 1, the female from 4, and the male from 6 scored joint highest with tens. The lowest scoring tributes were the malnourished tributes from District 12. The girls this year seemed to be rather weak compared to the boys, an anomaly in the first couple of hunger games. Scoring similarly to the tributes from District 12 were most other tributes, with the exception of the middle district pact.

Interview night was marred with an attempt on interviewer Gaius Flickerman's life. The interviewer was partway through the interview with the District 3 female when an insurgent cell fired a shot at Flickerman's head. His young family in the audience found themselves held hostage for three hours until peacekeepers were finally able to detain the forces.

After a graphic public execution of the six involved members of the insurgent cell, the interviews continued, the girl from District 3 overshadowed by the attempt on the Capitolitan's life. Besides the assassination attempt, the tributes from District 4 were lauded for their interviews for working to help quell the crowd and reassure them that the show would go on. The boy from District 6 emerged as an infamous figure, with a record breaking amount of bets being placed for his death or his victory. The tributes from District 11 were able to charm the audience with a cute schtick that would forever be attempted by future 12 year olds.

Such a terrorist attack would cause the Hunger Games to be delayed to its now customary starting time of 10 o'clock in the morning. Once Gaius and his family recovered, it was back to work. This Hunger Games was bound to be interesting to the audience, as they would learn that this year would pose a mainstay for future hunger games.

Modified creatures that were once used to wage war against the Districts would first make their appearance in these hunger games. This year featured several noteworthy monsters- or mutts as the common vernacular had it. The magnum opus of this year was a wild boar crossed with the DNA of long extinct lupine ancestors that would stalk tributes once the tributes dwindled themselves down. This year was noteworthy for having virtually all animals- including the animals seen as food sources- being mutts. Chicken mutts that would swarm, hermaphroditic cows, rock biting lizards, and more would haunt the tributes, present and future.

All of these factors would contribute to a Hunger Games that was widely seen as weirdly forgettable for the first decade, notoriously joining the 7th and 3rd Hunger Games in this regard.

District 1; Male: Dinar Opulence (17), 10, 10-1 odds; Female: Shimmer Candela (16), 8, 24-1 odds

District 2; Male: Boulder Everhart (12), 6, 72-1 odds; Female: Katie Doublet (15), 7, 52-1 odds

District 3; Male: Lenovo Binary (16), 3, 100-1 odds; Female: Ampera Norton (14), 3, 144-1 odds

District 4; Male: Rotter Altimir (17), 8, 16-1 odds; Female: Atlantis Dover (16), 10, 10-1 odds

District 5; Male: Simon Hoover (16), 6, 72-1 odds; Female: Lumen Kepler (16), 3, 164-1 odds

District 6; Male: Romulus von Misch (18), 10, 8-1 odds; Female: Corrine Flux (16), 3, 175-1 odds

District 7; Male: Anton Trexton (18), 5, 64-1 odds; Female: Lois Dice (14), 6, 56-1 odds

District 8; Male: Burlap Kipton (16), 9, 16-1 odds; Female: Tourmaline Bevel (17), 5, 44-1 odds

District 9; Male: Franz Pellitteri (15), 7, 40-1 odds; Female: Brioche Kapingo (15), 6, 50-1 odds

District 10; Male: Geryon Rimmer (18), 7, 48-1 odds; Female: Roberta Stinger (17), 3, 166-1 odds

District 11; Male: Knish Plantain (12), 4, 194-1 odds; Female: Daffodil Shaft (12), 5, 210-1 odds

District 12; Male: Erik Ashby (14), 2, 300-1 odds; Female: Olive Slag (13), 2, 252-1 odds

District 13; Male: Zander Parity (16), 7, 44-1 odds; Female: Yve Omega (17), 7, 36-1 odds

_**In his words: Geryon** _

When the pedestal rises I'm greeted with a large gust of wind. It dies out three seconds into the countdown.

_55, 54, 53, 52, 51_

Focus Geryon. I'm one of the stronger tributes of the year. There are no elevens but there are tens. It seems like the tributes from 1 and 4 are those who have seemed to treat this as a career. They probably don't look at us like cattle. The closest career tribute is the girl from District 1 who is some four spaces to my left. The boy from District 4 six spaces to my right.

_39, 38, 37_

Directly next to me is the Zander from District 13. He's not as strong as Isaac from last year and he seems a lot more distracted than he should be. To my right is Olive from District 12. She's shaking on the pedestal and it doesn't seem like she'll last long.

_29, 28, 27_

Where is Romulus? He's the strongest tribute of the year. I can't see him so he must be on the other side. How did a kid from District 6 get scores on par with some of the threats from the career districts? His girlfriend is next to Zander. She's shaking, looking like she's going to throw up. Knowing her boyfriend they're gonna connect as soon as they can.

_12, 11, 10_

Focus. Focus. Focus. The terrain has a lot of trees and plants, enough supplies that I can just forgo the cornucopia. In front of me is a piece of plastic. Some two hundred feet in a leftward direction is a small crate and a backpack. There's more backpacks, smaller ones. There's a tiny loaf of bread too.

_3, 2, 1_

The gong rings and the tributes on either side of me are running to the cornucopia. I hesitate before jumping off and the ground is slowly getting picked clean of supplies. Cursing myself I run leftward towards the bags I saw. I reach a blue bag at the same time as one of the younger tributes. I yank the bag forcefully and then the girl runs away, grabbing some smaller loot along the way.

I have one bag but there's some other commodities on the ground that I easily scoop up. The screams are ringing and it sounds like the main alliance has reached the main stock of weapons.

_26th, Boulder Everhart, District 2 Male, 12 years old, disemboweled by Atlantis Dover (D4F)_

I try to keep my wits about me when I run towards another small set of supplies. I need to get out of here as soon as I can but that small tackle box could have some needed supplies. You never know.

_25th, Yve Omega, District 13 Female, 17 years old, slashed by Katie Doublet (D2F)_

As I run I'm tackled by the boy from District 9. He's a strong guy and I feel winded as I begin to recover my breath. I rear myself up like a bull and charge into him. The two of us get into a scuffle over the bags and one of them tears open. On an impulse I slam him upside the head with the tackle box and he steps back just a bit.

_24th, Tourmaline Bevel, District 8 Female, 17 years old, Stabbed by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

The boy still has some fight in him and lands a good punch to my gut. I'm momentarily winded as he grabs my hair. Shouting in pain I slam the tackle box into his shoulder. He lets me go and I slam the tackle box repeatedly. He falls to the ground like a puppet.

_23rd, Franz Pelliterri, District 9 Male, 15 years old, Bludgeoned by Geryon Rimmer (D10M)_

There's no time to process what I've done because the District 3 boy is looking at me with fear and anger in his eyes. I guess the two were allies. As quickly as I can I grab my supplies and run into the forest, weaving in and out of trees in order to shake off someone. Even this far into the forest, the screams from the cornucopia ring loudly.

_22nd, Simon Hoover, District 5 Male, 16 years old, stabbed by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

I don't know how long I keep running but the forest ends quickly, way too quickly, and the next thing I know I'm actually running through a flat plain like area with some buildings in the distance. To my right I see two tributes running away from each other, and I have to run away.

_21st, Lenovo Binary, District 3 Male, 16 years old, slashed by Shimmer Candela (D1F)_

Just keep running.

Just keep running.

_20th, Erik Ashby, District 12 Male, 14 years old, stabbed by Dinar Opulence (D1M)_

Further and further I run through the grass, a striking sense of familiarity, and I just run forward and forward before I finally encounter a small shack.

_19th, Lumen Kepler, District 5 Female, 16 years old, Partially Decapitated by ATlantis Dover (D4F)_

Exhausted I collapse onto a bale of hay. This is going to be as close to home that I'm ever going to get in this hellhole of a place. I've lost a couple of things in the scuffle and the bag tore open when I went from forest to grassland. The easy part is over, now I have to relax, and I have to think of a plan. But for now, I can just grab what I need.

After what seems like forever I hear the cannons. All eight of them rock the small shack, or rather, small tool shed. If I don't have any weapons the tools here are sure to be a good substitute. I yank open the bags and the contents spill messily on the floor. The main bag I have has a towel, socks, and boxer shorts. There's also toothpaste, iodine, duct-tape, some crackers, jerky, and flatbread.

The tacklebox, much heavier, actually has a foldable fishing rod and some wire. In addition to that there's some worms and bait. I've never had fish but there's a first time for everything. In the wreckage of another bag that I've somehow obtained, I find a bag of five apple slices, a single glove, a dozen tiny bandages, and a belt. I take the contents, including the torn bag, and somehow I get them all to fit in my functioning bag.

It isn't until I look at my forearm that I realize that I need to take everything out again. Sighing loudly I take the contents out, one by one, and get the bandaid out. I tear open the plastic and lather it onto my, merifuly, small wound. I look around the shack to see a small bucket and a small spigot. In this shed there's also a pitchfork and some small garden shears.

Not a weapon I have any use with but It'll have to do for now at least. I'll take the garden shears and the pitchfork and the bucket. Like the victor last year did at least once, I put the bucket and tool box on either side of the pitchfork and hoist the fork over my back. It isn't until I'm outside the shed that I realize, it'd probably be a smarter idea to stay within the shed for now.

It takes the wrecked bag, all of my strength, and especially a lot of sweat, but I get the water flowing from the rusted spigot into the bucket. The day really has me thirsty and I'm really tempted to dunk into it head first. But then something that the head trainer says echoes in my head. I have to use the iodine tablet. For the third time today I lay out the supplies from my bag and dig through them to find the iodine.

In the thirty minutes I have to wait I dwell upon… really, not much. I've never been a thinker and I'm probably not going to be. My mind still drifts to that boy from the middle districts I went up against. I did a lot of damage to him… he's probably… if he's alive then I'm gonna be in a lot of trouble. If he didn't… then I got someone.

No, he must have been just cattle. That's what my mom told me. She's always been a hardass, pragmatic but loving. She told me to do whatever it takes. Same thing with my dad. Same thing with my brother.

Like a good rancher I have to fight. I'm not a meat packer like my partner. I'm not like the other 8 tributes who came before me. I know I stand a chance.

Just look at them like cattle.

THe iodine tablet has fizzed away and I drink the water like a horse would if it actually drank the water we took it to. I take a piece of the flatbread, partitioning the rets to last for another seven days. I hope I don't need to last on that for long. Hopefully all that food I had in the capitol manages to stick with me for that long, longer is preferred actually. I don't know how much food is in the arena so I hope I can find it, lest I be eating mountain lions.

All too soon the sun goes down and my shack is in relative darkness. I peer through the window as I hear the sounds of the Capitol anthem begin to play. The first face in the sky is the District 2 boy, the young one. He honestly was the weakest boy District 2 ever had, and I kind of wish one of those boys who took to the games like a career actually went in his face. The boy from District 3 is next in the sky, he probably would have lasted longer but I didn't see him on my side of the cornucopia. It's possible that one of the others got him.

After him are the tributes from District 5. Damn, that means that the tributes from District 4 made it out of the bloodbath alive. Then we jump to the girl from district 8, which means the boy from District 6 and his girlfriend made it through. After her is a face I recognize too well. The boy who wrestled with me for the tacklebox and the loot on the ground is up in the sky. We- Franz and I- tried talking for a bit but then we just lost track. Did he forget that soon?

After him it's the boy from District 12. I breathe a sigh of relief because that means Roberta is alive. She's tall but skinnier than most of the others, so I'm glad that she at least made it through the bloodbath. After the 12 boys it's Yve from District 13. She and I… shared a pleasant conversation. I'm really sad that she died sooner rather than later, but… at least it was quick.

The capitol seal goes away and again the arena is entirely dark. District 1, Katie from District 2, the girl from District 3, both from 4, Romulus and his girlfriend, Anton and Lois, Burlap from 8, the District 9 girl, Roberta, both from District 11, the girl from District 12, and Zander from 13. They're all alive. Wait, that's only 17. I run through the numbers again and realize that I forgot about myself. Entirely exhausted, I go to sleep.

What wakes me up the next day is the sun and the sound of a rooster crowing. I'm besides myself as I flail out of the hay bale and stumble to the window. To my shock there are some cows moving northward. A couple of them look weird and some of them are clearly dragging behind but if a District 10 rancher doesn't recognize their craft then they're no true District 10 citizen.

A plan, a half baked plan, forms in my head as I do what Leon did last year. I follow the direction of the cowherd and it seems like they're heading into a rather nice town area. How big is this place? It already seems larger than the first year, probably ten times larger, or a hundred times larger. I have a bucket, some hands, and hopefully my escort will send me some kind of weapon.

Even if I've lived in the capitol for 7 days, I'm still District 10, and I'm sure I can slaughter a couple of cows.

The town I wind up in is a small, narrow street with pastures on either side and a dirt road going through the middle. The cows head to either pasture and begin to graze while I take the risk to explore one of the buildings lining the main dirt road. In front of the… Gen-Ral store, there is a hitching post, something we use for horses, a trough of dirt and water, and a rather small patio. The word almost escapes me, even if we are ranchers we are just the middle ranch hands. I head into the store to find that there are shelves full of… dust, and cans, and what look to be cash. Undeniably there's not going to be much use for cash, maybe I can burn it.

As I walk inside I hear the sounds of a rather loud roar. I dump my supplies in the back of the store before running out.

Nothing prepares me for the…thing… in front of me.

I've seen wolves, I've seen cougars, I've even seen the occasional out district raider.

This isn't one of them.

The wolf-like creature stands on both of its hind legs for a brief moment, nearly my height, but with muscles to rival the second victor. Its jaw splits open in a weird sort of smile and then it heads onto both of its knees. Frantically, I hold up some jerky I've kept in my pockets and set it just in front of me. Making sure I don't break eye contact, I slowly back into the store. The wolf thing looks at me with a bigger smile… then it laughs.

It bows its head in respect and slowly walks up to me. I feel a slight trickle down my legs as I wince. The wolf backs away and gives me one lick before it heads off.

The sound of cows screaming in pain almost obscures the cannon fire.

_17th, Shimmer Candela, District 1 Female, 16 years old, Dismembered by Wolf Mutt_

I'm paralyzed on the porch until a parachute comes down to me. It's a heavy package. I take it inside to find that there are shorts, gloves- milking gloves-, a set of matches, an apple in a bag of seeds, and finally, a series of pictures.

Our escort, Oenone, figured out quickly that I didn't know how to read. The pictures that she sent me are of the wolf-thing that I saw, some warnings regarding the cows, and her smiling face. At least I know she's looking out for me. Here's hoping she's going to do the same.

Scrutinizing the wolf-thing card, it says that it has the ability to get wings, a whole lot of ugly teeth, but if it pees on you then it'll mark you as a friend. This is shown with a heart over a stream of pee... It also has a picture of a weird double ladder thing and what looks to be the capitol seal with a hand. I think it means that the capitol changed it.

I take off my pants to see that there's a dried up pee stain on my leg. I don't want to rub it away in case those things come back. _That's what the shorts are for_.

I put on my shorts and ball my pants in a burlap sack that I find in the main room of the Gen-Ral store. Again I debate on heading out but for now, waiting in this room will do. I don't know of any other… monsters in this Hunger Games.

I'm always one to think. Oenone is a familiar face. My mom told me she used to run the District, run it on behalf of the mayor when he got some kind of terrible disease. Now she's here, betraying the trust of the District she supposedly cared for just before the war. She must have been close to President del Ave. I wonder what happened.

It must have been because of the rebellion.

The day turns to night and I realize that I've been stewing in my own thoughts for way too long. I don't want to risk heading out into the arena because of the wolf things. Or any other animal things. Those birds from last year still kind of scare me. They gave my little cousins a whole lot of nightmares. But i think I have them beat with nightmares for now.

The anthem plays in the sky and I creep to a small window. The cold air greets me as I look at the fae of the District 1 girl. How did she die? I thought she was going to live a lot longer than this. She was rather catty… her name was… Glimmer? Sheen? Geane? Shimmer? It's only been three days and I'm forgetting the names of the people who are supposed to kill me.

Whoever she is, she disappears in the night. I take a look at my pack and curl up on the other side, waiting for sleep to take me.

No nightmares, no dreams, nothing plagues me tonight, but when I wake up I'm still restless. My back aches from sleeping on the floor. I've had to do it a couple of times in District 10- that's a million miles away now-since we've had to care for all my cousins from the war. I stretch my back and head out of the Gen-Ral store with my shears, my bucket, my gloves, and a bit of jerky in my pockets.

I make a sweep around the store before a door opens up suddenly. The five second debate i have with myself in my head ends with the side telling me to head into the door winning. This is the first year with town elements so I might as well see if there's anything in there.

The inside looks like a classroom, except there are no desks, no chalk, just chairs where students should be. A rooster calls out, a little late, and I turn around urgently. The door slams shut and I look through the desks in hopes of finding something the least bit useful. There's a buzz from one of the desks. When it becomes louder something-

Fuck.

As quietly as I can I head out of the classroom and into my Gen-ral store. I try not to leave stuff behind when I run through the store, making sure those things don't wake up.

No sooner do I leave that I see another figure head inside. It's a small animal, looks like a cat, or a dog, or even a fox. The buzzing becomes almost unbearably loud as I bolt in the opposite direction. The buzzing enemy seems to have taken the fox down- I hear its yowls of pain from here- and they die down. There's obviously no cannon.

The small dirt road is exactly that. I make my way to the building furthest away from the buzzing and find myself in a bank. My parents have a bank account and they got some more from my dead uncles and aunts. Most of it went to the capitol but there was enough in there to set all… all…

I lose track of how many people are in my family, but there are more important things to worry about. I set up camp behind one of the desks in the bank. I make sure to close the door tightly and hide my stuff. Again, I set out to find one of those cows, give them a proper milking. They should be friendly enough. Right?

The cow I choose to head to has horns the size of my arm and muscles bigger than the side of my head. When I step forward to it it bleats in pain. "It's okay," I say in the tone every proper rancher should know. "I'm not going to hurt you."

As I kneel in front of it the cow yowls in pain as I gently rub its underside. It only takes a little look to my right to see why. The poor thing must also be one of the ones modified by the capitol. The cattle I look at has both udders and some valuable parts every man treasures. "Poor thing," I murmur softly, brushing its fur downward. I make sure to put on my gloves as I set the bucket under him.

Milking is usually so easy, but when dealing with… the poor one in front of me… I can hardly focus on the proper process of milking them when it yells so much. I finish and get a half full bucket of milk. I stand up and thank the cow for its service. Then it turns around and bumps me affectionately. I don't want to be on the receiving end of its horns.

When I head back to the bank, I see that a tree has fallen over. "What in the?"

Sticks line the grass. I scoop many of them up in order to make a fire. A person can drink raw milk but it's safer to heat it up. "Where did I put my matches?"

Milk in hand, I head inside to grab my bag, which has to have the matches. As quietly as I can, and as far away from the wood buildings as I dare, I start the fire with the matches I have. I'm rather pleased with myself until I realize that I have no way of setting up the milk. Rather frustrated, I grab some sticks, long grass, and build a high grill for the bucket to rest on. The sticks sag a little but in spite of that they stand up.

I hold out a piece of my flat bread and stab it with another stick, toasting it over as I wait for the food to dry.

Another parachute comes. A small skillet, a dozen eggs, a container, a glass cup, a felt bag, and another set of photos are waiting for me. The photo shows me what i already thought. The cattle are male with female parts… or female with male parts. No matter what they are they are poor freaks of nature.

No cannons fire through the day. I put out my fire just before it goes dark, and in the distance I see some smoke. It may be from a tribute, it may be from the gamemakers. Who knows what the gamemakers can do. They've already tormented these poor animals.

What if it's the animals setting them up?

A lingering smile is on my face as I try to picture our rather dumb animals setting a fire. Dad's had coax their heads out of our wood fences too many times for his liking. With my supplies I curl up under a desk, covered in my towel. There are no faces in the sky, there shouldn't be.

When I sleep this time, I don't know whether it's supposed to be a dream or a nightmare. My head is in between the wood planks that make our fence. I'm drinking milk out of a fancy capitol drinking straw as some cows play poker. Dad looks over me like I'm some sort of cow and pats my head. He puts a sign over me that says "District 10, born and bred". I dream of my cousins playing cards, singing in that language we aren't technically supposed to know but no one enforces. I play with them and they win. It suddenly seems like that they're all bigger and stronger than me and get me off of the fence and hoist me off into the sunset.

_17th, Ampera Norton, District 3 Female, 14 years old, Strangled by Zander Parity (D13M)_

I decide that I had a dream last night, no matter how weird it was. It wasn't scary enough to be a nightmare. My back is even worse this time, probably because I was curled up like a pig letting herself be suckled by her piglets. There is no buzzing… no tracker jackers.

I shudder at the thought.

During the war my brother Jules and I were walking from our farm school to our homestead when a cow suddenly collapsed. I didn't see the tracker jackers come out from it but from what Jules said, there were dozens, if not hundreds. We had to be holed up in a neighboring ranch for a week before they died down. That family probably hated us, but they were still friendlier than the peacekeepers who got rid of the cow corpse and tracker jackers.

With my bucket in hand I head over to where my fire was. Again, I get it going. This time I choose to make an egg. Protein is protein, and I haven't been getting enough of it. My stomach rumbles but no parachute comes down. The skillet is still hot when I take it off so all I can do is occasionally poke at the scrambled eggs with a stick and shove it into my mouth.

Breakfast is over much too quickly and I'm rather hungry. I hear a moo from the cows off in the distance. I wave it off as I stare at the building in front of me. As I do, I hear the sounds of something approaching me.

I turn around frantically and that's all it takes.

The girl who was running to ambush me holds her stomach in pain. She's wearing her shirt in the manner that the capitol thinks girls from my District wears them. She pulls out a sword and swings it at me. I feel the blood rush out of my arm but I still have my skillet. I swing it again and her sword falls out. She looks at me fearfully as I slam her again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

_16th, Lois Dice, District 7 Female, 14 years old, Bludgeoned with Skillet by Geryon Rimmer (D10M)_

I hardly hear the sound of the cannon over the mooing of the cows. I back away from her body and put out my flame. The smoke rises and I head inside for the briefest of moments, clutching my wounded hand as I hold my towel to it. I think the hovercraft takes her body. I'm not entirely sure just yet.

What is sure is that a parachute containing a longer bandage and a set of utensils comes down. It's shortly followed by another parachute of knives and a small whip. I guess I'm gonna be staying put for a while. I've had enough excitement for the day, so I just sit down in my small store room with not much on my mind for the rest of the day.

No other cannons fire. It's going to be a slow games. They've slowly been getting longer with how the Hunger Games have gone. I could be here for upwards of a fortnight. Which means I would be away from my parents for at least 3 weeks.

Wait. Is it three weeks?

There were two days on the train, three days of training, the interview day- six days. Just shy of a fortnight I suppose. I wonder if my folks are gonna be the family who stays camping at the main town square seeing if their kids are gonna meet a bad fate. That happened to the best tribute from District 10. Timmy Holstein or something. His folks stayed and saw him killed by that annoying District 12 boy.

I lie down with my head towards the door. At least that means that I won't have someone stab me in the back. It's times like this that I realize I'm glad I don't have an ally. The victor of the third Hunger Games almost got stabbed by her ally while she was sleeping. At least I don't have to worry about that.

But then again we could be getting more supplies. No time to worry about the what ifs. There are going to be infinite amounts of them no matter how long I live. I pull out my flat bread and begin to partition it. The alliances of the last 3 years had a lot more supplies than I did, and even Remus of the first year was rather cushy with supplies. I don't have that luxury, even with the parachutes coming down. Oenone mentioned that after last year they're going to make

The day bleeds into night and then the anthem plays. The first face in the sky is the District 3 girl. Wait what? When did her cannon fire?! Who got her? Why is she there? Her face is up there for a rather long time. After her though, it's the District 7 girl. That I know what happened. Was she- Did she- did she really look that young? How old was she?

Her face disappears and the arena is dark again. I fall asleep and I know 100% that I have a nightmare this time. It starts off normal, sure. My cousins and I are having breakfast then Dad calls me to slaughter some cattle. I'm only walking for the first step outside when I'm hit in the head with a frying pan. The next thing I'm aware of is that I'm being chopped up by the District 9 boy and the District 7 girl. I'm served to the wolf things after they finish eating my cousins.

When I do wake up I wipe my face with the bloody towel and push it away in fear. It shouldn't cost much to pay for a towel, right? If only this town wasn't so abandoned. I'll keep my camp here for at least one more day, there's a couple of buildings that I could go searching for.

I hold my knife and munch on some bread and apples. It's not much, and my stomach still rumbles, but I did have the occasional day of getting hungry. It shouldn't be that bad, at least for one day, maybe, hopefully.

The street this time is full of chickens. Fucking chickens. I can barely take a step in one direction before I step on a couple chickens. They cluck loudly and on a hunch I run into a room.

They aren't like the birds from last year- they're just chickens- but I swear if all of them could they could tear down the door in the building I'm held up in. They screech and claw at the windows before one of them cracks through. I hold up my knife warily before it clucks and lays an egg. Then it poops on my feet before running away.

A cannon fires

_15th, Burlap Kipton, District 8 Male, 18 years old, Mauled by Chicken Mutts_

I look through the window to see most of them gone. There's poop, dead chickens, and eggs- eggs everywhere. At least they were just chickens, nothing different from that. With luck I wind up in some kind of clothing store. I probably stink like a pig, but again, I can't be sure if taking off my clothes would make it so that I'm vulnerable to the weird mutated animal things. I look to the sky for parachutes. No such luck.

I am able to pick up some blankets, towels, band-aids, and a bag. This would make carrying things a whole lot easier. Satisfied with my haul I head outside, picking up some of the eggs. Wait. is it safe?

A parachute gives me the answer. All in there is a granola bar, a refillable water bottle, and some cards. They approve of eating the eggs so long as no chicken thing is nearby. I can slaughter a cow if and only if I milk it first. Both aren't ideal options but it'll have to do. The water bottle is about a foot tall. If I take some two gulps a day I'll be fine… I hope so.

The day continues and I make a fire in the alley between two buildings. No one seems to notice my flames. I'm either the most cunning of fire starters or the luckiest. That's really how you get through the games, luck. It's why… what was the phrase?- the odds have to be in our favor. Staring at the fire I begin to think of my family back home. Are they singing those campfire songs? Are they still watching me?

No that's ridiculous. Maybe mom and dad are just swapping places a whole lot. Is Little Tyler? Older brother Stephen? No, they have school and the duties at the ranch. With how many family members I have- I daresay we're bigger than Remus' immediate clan- there's probably at least two watching the ranch. Honestly it ain't much of a ranch with just two people though, the animals need a lot of attention. Including our dogs.

A sigh escapes my lips as I think about how our dogs are going to do. As cliche it may be, those little puppers helped keep me sane during the war. They kept me with a goal and they were always open for a hug. Fifo… I raised that boy since he was weaned from his mother and he was the best watch dog we've ever had. "Take care of Fifo for me," I say to the fire.

It seems to get brighter as the day goes on and then I realize that the day is slowly turning into night. With a sigh I crack open an egg and fry it. It's a little sloppier this time and some shell manages to fall into the egg. I can stand a little crunch.

Before I know it the anthem is in the sky. There's only one face, the boy from District 8. His name was… Burlap… and I remember he was strong. Those tributes who made a career out of this must have gotten him. He was intimidating but I seem to recall that I had that angle too. I'm surprised that district 8 is gone this soon. They were pretty tough in years past.

The anthem ends and I put out my fire. With trudging feet I creep into the bank base camp and sleep. Fifo is in my dreams tonight. He's leading me to the boy from District 9, the girl from District 7, and oddly, the boy from District 8. They pelt me with eggs.

I wake up this time feeling rather wet. Rather disgruntled I look up to see that I've rolled out from under the desk and under a gaping hole in the ceiling. I try my best to head into a dryer part of the bank, choosing to wait inside a desk. It isn't until the rain slows to a trickle that I realize, I can probably use this.

I open the water bottle and leave it under the remaining downpour and the water bottle fills up quickly. Satisfied, I put the iodine into the water and wait some thirty or so minutes. It won't take long, and then I'll be able to drink it with my bread and jerky for the morning. I also could eat the raw egg. I've done it before, split with my folks.

The day is boring. The shoes we have on are far from proper wear in going out and getting wet in this gear may diminish how I'm able to approach the animal things. I begin to sing a little ditty from home to keep me occupied. Why don't they ever show the tributes doing this at home? Have they always been on?

If I die in this Hunger Games then I'll never find out the answer. I flex at my cut arm from the other day to see that it's still in the process of healing.

I'm not surprised when night seems to come soon, with it comes the anthem. It's not a productive day for me. I don't even know if I've eaten at all, but honestly, I could wait for a while.

I don't even know if I've fallen asleep, but I wake up to the sound of a cannon firing.

_14th, Corrine Flux, District 6 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Katie Doublet (D2F)_

The day is still bright but the building begins to creak loudly. Cautiously I bring out my supplies. There's another wolf thing on the road. I pull out a small piece of jerky and lay it down for him. He growls a lot louder than the other one did but eventually bows its head and leaves me be. At least until I turn around.

The thing barks and walks up to me, sniffing my feet, and I feel another trickle down my feet. At least that takes care of that problem.

I set up my shelter in the building furthest away from where I entered this small town. Or village. Village might be a more appropriate term. Towns usually have more than twenty buildings. Another cannon fires. And then another.

_13th, Katie Doublet, District 2 Female, 15 years old, Bludgeoned by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

_12th, Atlantis Dover, District 4 Female, 16 years old, Internally Decapitated by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

Taking a look in this small set up I see that there's actually a whole map of the arena. It's rather ovallish, not round like I thought. The cornucopia is closer to the south and there are two grey villages. I'm definitely in one of them. There are also thickets of forest scattered and actually some streams nearby. If another mutt appears then I might- no I definitely have to go.

I make a small fire today and cook another egg. There are still some in the street and I don't know if it's the most hygienic but- wait, they're still warm. That means I can just clean them briefly and cook them. Slowly but surely I cook the eggs and they won't cause much trouble for me. I've gotten sick from bad eggs and I've gotten over them.

To my surprise and pleasure I don't wind up sick from the eggs I eat. I guess cooking them did help in the end. The rest of the day I scourge the building. It looks something like a post office back home. There are post offices but they usually are family run. If we need things we usually have to slaughter our cattle and make them ourselves. There's a register and some paper. One of the pieces of paper has a list of all the animals in the arena and there's a small diary too.

Another cannon fires just as I begin looking at the picture of tracker jackers.

_11th, Olive Slag, District 12 Female, 13 years old, killed by Rotter Altimir (D4M)_

So many people lost today. Too many more will follow, but so long as I'm alive, then I guess we need to make it through the end.

The rest of the day adds nothing. I'm not productive yet today either, but with my arm healing I could be off tomorrow. No parachutes come. The day turns to night and the nightly roll call begins. The first face in the sky is the District 2 girl. Kaitlyn or Cady or something… she was young but tough. After her is the District 4 girl. I would have thought she may have lasted much longer. I didn't see her much in training though. After her it's the District 6 girl. Her boyfriend isn't going to be happy about that… but at least she doesn't have to worry about being addicted to morphling anymore. The last face in the sky is another girl, the girl from District 12. She was remarkably young.

The anthem ends and I sit under the main desk in this post office. By my count there are only 10 of us. There's me and Roberta, Zander from 13, both from 11, the girl from 9, Romulus from 6, and the boys from 1 and 4. Already half of the field is gone. No, more than that.

I've yet to think about it but there is a strong chance that Roberta may have to kill me, or Roberta will die at my hands, and neither of them are good options. Roberta has a big family too, more siblings than cousins, and I am willing to bet that they're going to be watching her too.

Sleep creeps up on me to the point I don't even know I fall asleep. I don't dream but I vaguely hear voices as they tumble into the office. "You okay Daffy?" a male voice asks.

"I'm fine. Knish? What should we do about him?"

From the sounds of their names they're the two twelve year olds from District 11. I hold my pitchfork up in a guard stance as I slowly peer over. They haven't noticed me, and they're referring to another boy, Zander from 13.

He looks ugly. What happened to him? There are boils over his body and come to think of it, both the twelve year olds seem to be quite out of shape too. It's not a pretty sight for either of them. "I didn't hear a cannon for him," the girl- Daffy says.

"Well I think maybe the boy got the girl when we were all running. Come on Daffy, we have to go."

The two of them look through the windows of the post office and slowly creep out. Thank goodness I don't have to kill them.

Zander manages to sit up when they're gone at the sound of a cannon firing.

_10th, Roberta Stinger, District 10 Female, 17 years old, Gored by Bull Mutt and stung by tracker jackers_

He shoots up, alert, and sees me holding the pitchfork over the desk defensively. "YOU KILL THEM!" he shouts.

I'm too bewildered to counter. He rushes straight at me with what looks to be a sword. His backpack tears apart as he rushes to me. He's clumsier than he was in training, and it doesn't take much effort for me to stab him with the pitchfork.

_9th, Zander Parity, District 13 Male, 16 years old, Stabbed in the throat by Geryon Rimmer (D10M)_

His cannon fires and I hear the two twelve year olds running away. I hope I never see them again. It just seems cruel to let them live this long. I can't look at the corpse of the once normal boy for too long. I scamper across the post office and grab his other, undamaged bag, and run away, away from the town where so many people died.

In the rush to escape I've taken two bags, left my pitchfork, and only have my knives with me for defense. There's a small forest lining what looks to be the base of a mountain. It's better than nothing and it gives me a lot more room for shelter.

The rest of the day, I just walk to the forest. It won't be long before the two from 11 appear in the sky. They look like they got stabbed by tracker jackers or something, and that's probably what got the other cannon in the day.

When I reach the forest it's an entirely different animal compared to the town and prairies I've walked through in this arena. Somehow, it's more calming, more secure, easier to breathe here. I collapse under a tree and look through my supplies. Zander has a small sword that he's kept in a bag, a set of blankets, some water bottles, a bottle of pills, and a carton of fruit. I still have my skillet and grill with me but I realize that I've stopped somewhere in the open. The knives will be good, but Zander's sword will be better since I left my pitchfork in the race back.

Once my breathing has settled down I scope out my area. There isn't anything of note, but the branches look like they're easily breakable and I can manipulate them into something of a lean to. I guess that hour I did spend with the shelter builder helped out. The branches I break are rather leafy so if the night gets cold I may be able to suffice with the leaves for some sort of warming.

The day turns into night and the two deaths of the day are up. First up is a face that I've been dreading. Just yesterday. Roberta. She wasn't very strong, but she lasted this long. She was always on the wrong side of luck in all honesty. They dressed her as a sheep, and told her to look scared in my presence because I was dressed as a wolf. I don't know what they were thinking with the gimmick, it couldn't have helped her with the sponsors. After her is the face of the boy I killed today. I don't need to look at him- well, I do. Just so I know what he looked like when he was conscious.

Their faces disappear and I crawl into my makeshift structure. It's low lying and rather narrow but there's enough space for me and the small bag of supplies that Zander had. Especially the sword.

Zander's in my dream tonight. The two of us fight over his sword. His voice is demonic and deafening and distracts me from the stab wound that blossoms on my chest. Roberta stands over, screaming how she's no longer weak, and I hear my cannon go off.

When I wake up I don't know if the cannon from my dreams actually came from reality. The sound and smell of rain is unmistakable and some water trickles through. I take off my clothes and slowly crawl out of the shelter. Making sure that most of my fabrics are dry, I tuck them under my shelter, and slowly head out into the rain.

The water rushes over my body and I take great care in getting most of my wounds cleaned. I've killed people on live television, they can stand to see a guy shirtless for one day. A lot of the other tributes took their shirts off so this really isn't anything new. It's not like I'm going totally naked, but maybe that'll be a strategy for those who look better than I do.

I wash up quickly and get a parachute. Confused, I open it up as quickly as I can. In it is a rather short sword, a pair of pants, and several sandwiches. I guess I do have fans after all. I give a gesture of thanks to the capitol before I retreat into my low lying shelter. I'm probably going to be a bit dirty after this but you aren't a real district 10 citizen if you're a coward with mud. I slip on my clothes and lie down.

It's a boring day. I munch on a sandwich and roll around in this small, rather flat shelter, but other than that, it's not a productive day. There are how many people? Eight? What is my family doing back home? What are the other tributes doing?

Day turns into night and I fall asleep with little fanfare. My dream is indefinite, full of smoke and rain and blood, then the figures materialize. I leap up from my nightmare into the world of the living, breathing heavily, and sopping with sweat. My makeshift shelter gets knocked down in a matter of seconds and the bright sunlight smiles on me harder than a desert wolf bites down on a cow.

I pick up my supplies from the wreckage and set up a fire. I hope the forest obscures-

The fire starts and there's the sounds of a scream in the distance. I debate on running towards the scream when someone runs through the forest and nearly collides into me. We fall to the ground, a tumble of blood, mud, and what smells like guts, when I push her off of me and see what she was chased by.

It's not a wolf thing. It's a bear-pig-wolf-horse thing. The monster looks me straight in the eye and lets out a roar that sounds like a pig's squeal and a horse's whinny. It makes a lunge towards me but it trips over its… hoof? Leg? Whatever it is it goes down with a growl and I rush to it. It makes a last lunge at me that scratches my chest but the cut doesn't look too deep. With a scream I raise my sword and stab it again, and again, and again.

Once the thing is finally dead I roll it over because it fell over one of my bags. "The thing is gone," I say with a spit. "You okay?"

I turn around to see the girl grabbing her scythe weakly. She coughs a little blood before she slumps down further. I rush to her, she probably has nothing, her partner is likely dead, and she's suffered a lot in this game. I push the hair out of her face and hear her breath begin to leave in heaving, hacking, coughing breaths. I hold her shoulder only to see her arm is covered in mud and blood. "Tha-"

She twitches again and begins to shake. I've seen this a lot in the other games. I know hat has to be done.

In one quick motion her shirt is covered with her own blood as it trickles down her throat's red smile. She opens her eyes once more and the two of us lock eyes. There's a flicker of forgiveness before her eyes gloss over and her cannon fires.

_8th, Brioche Kapingo, District 9 female, 15 years old, Bloodloss from Wolf/Pig/Bear/Horse mutt and Throat slit by Geryon Rimmer (D10M)_

I gather my supplies and leave the girl behind. She doesn't have any supplies of note on her but I'm willing to bet that in the direction she came she had her supplies. As I think about supplies another parachute comes down. I take the container in my hands as I walk off with my sword and knives in my hand. It's a tough decision to leave behind my pitchfork but this late something this long won't be able to sustain me for long.

The sun beats down even as I walk through the forest but the trees do a good job of keeping the heat of of my back. When I decide to make camp two more cannons in quick succession fire.

_7th, Knish Plantain, District 11 Male, 12 years old, Fall damage_

_6th, Daffodil Shaft, District 11 Female, 12 years old, Fall damage_

Two cannons. I hope it was one of the tougher people rather than the two twelve year olds. If the two twelve year olds got it then I hope that they died quickly.

I set up another rather… for lack of… the right word- flumpy… shelter with more fallen branches and put my supplies inside. I hear a bit of thunder but from the looks of the sky there's not going to be rain for a while. I open my last parachute to find a whip curled up in the center of cups of hot stew, salad, jerky, crackers, some fizzy drink, and more importantly a photo.

The photo that Oenone sent confirms exactly what I've been thinking. The dollar signal is crossed out on the photo, and there are faces- stylistic faces of my family. All… all of them. They're all rooting for me, and based off of what this package says, I need to fight to make it home to them. I hope they didn't sell the farm for any of this.

I take a bit of the stew, savoring it, and a slice of the sandwich, before I curl up in my small makeshift shelter. Mercifully the rest of the day goes by without a hitch as I go about, stretching and changing and waiting.

Day turns into night and the anthem comes up. The first face is the girl I killed. She looks strikingly like the milkmaid's daughter. I never did get to tell her how I felt, and her doppelganger suffered a brutal death, but it wasn't likely she was going to know what happened. After her it's the faces of the two twelve-year olds. I really hope they didn't suffer a bad death. I wasn't going to be one of the monsters who killed twelve-year olds.

The anthem ends and there are five of us left in the arena. Me, the two from the lower districts, the District 6 boy, and then… one more…

I'll find out who he is when his face is in the sky, or I'll die before I find out. In the relative darkness I'm able to move most of my stuff, including the whip, into only one bag. I'm able to make something of a pillow with my supplies and then sleep takes me over.

In my dream, my mother is telling me the story of doppelgangers and reincarnation. It's a childhood story that a lot of kids, like my younger brother Devin, believe in. They say that when you die your soul is attached to a new body, but sometimes when you're close to dying then you meet someone who looks exactly like you. As to who the person is, it's a mystery.

I run into my doppelganger in the arena. He looks just like me and looks like the milkmaid's daughter. The trees begin to shake as I slowly walk forward to him. He adopts a murderous grin as a whip materializes in his hand. I begin breathing heavily before two others grab my hands. The milkmaid's daughter- Kelsi- and the girl I killed yesterday, are holding me down as my doppelganger rushes into me. Suddenly I am him and his is me but we're both bleeding from the same wound.

When I wake up screaming it's to the sound of thunder. My shelter is leaking rain as I hear the water slowly trickle down the trees. I guess it's going to be an easy day today for me. I curl up with my bag and my whip while I'm sure the day goes on. I can only hope that there are no stupid mutated animal things going by.

I can only hope the Hunger Games will be ending soon. I finish up two more sandwiches and drink another quarter of my stew. I look at the photo of my family that Oenone was able to send to me. Mom, Dad, Devin, Tyler, Steven, Marissa, Catia, Steer- and the cousins, all twelve of them. Was it always twelve?

Yes, nine boys and three girls. All of my mom and dad's brothers died in the rebellion, fighting against the capitol like… like… I can't be thinking that. I have a lot of them to take care of, andI don't want them to be on the wrong end of a tracker jacker attack.

_5th, Anton Trexton, District 7 Male, 18 years old, Stabbed by Rotter Altimir (D4M)_

The rest of the day goes on and I think about my family. Kelsi appears in my thoughts occasionally, in the grasses and in the mud, but I have to remind myself that she's dead. Dead. Dead. A rogue bomb fell on her property. There wasn't enough for her coffin.

I hope there's enough of me left over for my coffin.

But I can't think like that yet.

The thunder continues through the day. I try to listen to cannons in between the rolls of thunder but the water pouring in every so often is a big distraction. I try to plug up the holes, getting rather drenched, but it's nothing that won't dry in the end.

_4th, Dinar Opulence, District 1 Male, 17 years old, Slashed by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

I have another half of a sandwich as the rain continues to pour over the forest. Without warning I hear the Panem anthem begin to play. Through one of the gaps in my shelter I look through. The first face in the sky is the District 1 boy. I think he was the second to last one. I'm glad he's gone. He would have been hard to go up against. I'm fairly sure District 1 is another one of those Districts who tries to make the Hunger Games as a career option. Still, he's dead, and he probably deserved a better death.

After him it's the boy from District 7- well, man. He's one of the oldest tributes this year, I think he was even older than me, but he just kept a rather silent deportment and stood off to himself. He and I had the same gameplan, no allies.

The anthem quiets down and I one hundred percent know that this is the finale. I have to get what sleep that I can before the gamemakers would force us to run.

I dream again, but when I wake up any memory of it goes away and then the ground begins to shake. I swing my pack over my back as I burst through my shelter, sword and whip in hand as I sprint out. A tree collapses mere feet from where I was running from with a thunderous roar. I guess whatever it is they say in District 7 is true.

If I make it out of here I'm definitely going to tell Oenone.

The plains are easy to run through but I find myself tripping over my own two feet with the sound of the bleating cows join me in my run from the forest. I look behind me just as a harrowing screech comes from just behind me. One of the things that helped kill the District 9 girl is in the mix of animals running from the forest- and it's gaining on all of us.

I turn back and trip over my own two feet as I speed up. The cows bristle along my side but for the most part they're good meat shields against the monstrous beast. Cows to the left and right of me fall over in the ensuing stampede. I'm sure I'm about to follow them when I feel a strong push behind me. Instead of falling over I roll forward and find myself in an all too familiar clearing.

The cornucopia is picked clean. It's bronze shell glistens in the afternoon light and the two figures dancing in the middle occasionally clang their weapons against it. The four boy and Romulus.

I keep my distance but I run towards them, hesitant to interrupt what's going on. A roar echoes from just behind me and I duck impulsively. The monster that killed the District 9 girl is back and it launches at the two brawling boys. They're both able to fend it off in a flurry of blows and curses and they're both bloody and injured after that. One boy looks at the other and stabs him quickly. The other makes a last grab before he falls, dead.

_3rd, Rotter Altimir, District 4 Male, 17 years old, Stabbed by Romulus von Misch (D6M)_

My last opponent kicks aside the dead body of the thing while he turns to face me. "Who the fuck are you?" he spits.

"I could say the same thing about you," I say with a roll of my eyes. My whip dangles limp from my hand as I tighten my grip on my sword. "Did your girlfriend know you were this vulgar?"

"Girlfriend?" he scoffs. "I guess that a rural hillbilly wouldn't know the dynamics of District 6."

"Never heard us ranchers called that." I curl my lips and steel my gaze as I take a step forward. "But that's no way to talk to no lady."

"I could talk however I want about my girlfriend."

"And if you make it out and Paisley calls you out?"

"When that happens I'll show her what I really mean, I'm no sexist pig but I know when a bitch is a bitch."

If he's trying to make me angry, it's working. He strung that- STRUNG THAT GIRL- strung that girl along for all I know. My blood begins to boil as I pull out my whip and lash him across the face. He lets out a hiss of pain and charges at me with a sword.

I feel the blade cut through my side and let out a scream of pain as I drop my whip and hold my sword against my arm. We fall, a mess of blood, limbs, and mud. I kick him off of me and make a grab for my whip. Romulus is able to get to his feet and stabs me on the back. I'm able to bite through the searing pain and find the whip in my left hand. With a flick I flip my wrist backward and he yanks the sword out.

Bleeding profusely, I'm able to get on my knees as I swing my sword again, this time into his chest. He bleeds and screams a horrid scream. Unsteadily I rise to my feet even as Romulus grabs my hair. I throw a punch and a kick to his most vulnerable areas as he finally falls to the floor.

I jump onto his back while he tries to gasp for breath. I run the sword through his back as he falls down again. Before he gets the chance to get up I wrap the whip around him and pull. His dying gurgle echoes as the cows begin to moo.

One last cough and he falls to the floor.

There's a cannon.

_2nd, Romulus von Misch, District 6 Male, 18 years old, Strangled by Geryon Rimmer (D10M)_

Then the trumpets.

I collapse.

_Geryon Rimmer was the victor in by far the worst state after his victory so far. He was losing blood fast and the capitol had to deploy a claw rather than the then traditional ladder. At the time, Geryon Rimmer took the longest to recover, with 4 days bedridden before he could finally take to the interview stage. He was not the most popular victor, especially coming after Leon of the previous year, something that would save him the next year._

_District 10 welcomed their victor, the first rancher to go in had also come out, but there was lingering resentment between the meatpackers, who up to this point had sent 9 of the 10 tributes. Only his immediate family moved into his new abode in Victor's Village, but after Geryon tried to attack his little brother, only his sisters would remain in the house. District 10 enjoyed the construction of a new racetrack and several auction houses. This would contribute to District 10 being a modestly successful Capitol tourist destination._

_His victory tour was seen as the most divisive., especially in District 9. Both of their tributes died at his hand, one to mercy and one to cruelty. Riots erupted in Districts 13, 11, and 9 after his visit. District 13, to this point, had lost a tribute to every victor so far. District 11 was none too pleased with the loss of two young twelve-year-olds. The aforementioned District 9 saw its riots motivated by Geryon's divisive reception._

_Geryon was one of the more isolated of the first generation of victors. He did not particularly enjoy the perks of being a victor as much as Leon, Duke, Remus, or even Paisley. To cope with the Hunger Games, Geryon would open up a rabbit therapy ranch, where he'd care for one hundred and forty-four rabbits a year. The victors would greatly appreciate the presence he and the rabbits had in the lounge._

_The year of the 14th Hunger Games, Geryon would marry one of the women who ran the auction house and have six kids of his own. None of them would enter the hunger games but he would see his wife's nephew through. He would not make it out of the arena._

_Geryon would later suffer from heart palpitations starting around the 69th Hunger Games. He would die two years before his wife during the bloodbath of the third quarter quell. He would be survived by his four daughters, two sons, his wife, and his remaining family._


	10. Sparse Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sixth Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 06, HEATED PASSION:** _

_**Name: Nina Chestford** _

_**District: 07** _

_Age: 16_

Directed by Eusebius Clarkson (District 2)

Geryon's victory largely marked the point in history when the districts began to accept the Hunger Games as a new reality. Geryon would maintain a lower presence than the previous Hunger Games victors and faded out of the spotlight much quicker than others.

Within the Districts life largely moved on. There was a notable increase in meat, as though the residents of District 10 were motivated by Geryon's recent victory. Though District 10 experienced an increase of peacekeeper presence, the attending peacekeepers would largely become acclimated to the District 10 population, and thus District 10's notoriety as the best location for peacekeepers slowly increased.

The Districts almost didn't realize when the Hunger Games crept up on them.

District 1's record keeping hall was burned in the rebellion and several citizens were left with nothing but their first name, as was the case for the male tribute from this district. In an ironic twist, District 2 would produce the first rigged rebels, in this case the son of a prominent rebel victor and the daughter of a corrupt peacekeeper, since the fourth hunger games. A victor's ancestry could be traced from one of the tributes of District 3 but it was not apparent when the tribute was reaped. District 4 produced one of the youngest boys to date and a rather beautiful girl.

The fifth District presented a rather comedic trend that was present among the richer citizens of District 5, overly long names, ostensibly to imitate the capitol and District 2 when a girl with 6 names was reaped. Both tributes from District 6 were morphling addicted, the girl less than the boy, which was a startling trend among the transportation district. The male collapsed on stage and began foaming at the mouth once the reaping ended. A stunning girl from District 7 overshadowed her normal and rather meek district partner, who fainted on stage. Tragically the girl selected from District 8 was blind from cataracts and required assistance from the escort to make it on stage. From the audience a handsome boy from the grain district left behind a throng of weeping girls as he stood strong on stage, again, largely overshadowing his District partner.

Of the higher numbered Districts, the main standout came from District 11. In sharp contrast to the two twelve year olds from the previous year, both tributes towered over the petite escort, but the focus was largely on the hulking male from the District. Historians universally consider him to be one of the first of the 'brute' archetype to enter the games, and when compared with Duke Kison, usually regard him as the first. The tributes from District 10, 12, and 13 largely could not hold a candle to the tributes from District 7.

That year the successful costumes included the entirely covered in bronze body paint boy from District 1, the water spirits from District 4, the District 5 girl's kinetic sculpture of a dress that generated wind energy, the trees from District 7, the bare necessities of District 9, and the glowing girl from District 13. The worst dud of the year came from District 3, who were dressed in magnets and were not only stuck to the metal linings of the chariots, but attracted some of the audience's accessories. Neither the diamond nipples from the District 1 girl, the giant orange from the District 11 male, nor the two giant lumps of coal from District 12 were regarded as bad failures as their cohorts in District 3.

Whilst training the first alliance to spring up was a coalition between the middle districts of 7, 8, and 9. It was noted through training that the sixsome grew rather close to each other and paired off almost immediately, though not necessarily with their District partners at the time. The youngest tributes of the year, the girl from District 3 and the boy from District 4, were never too far away from the sixsome, having been turned away from a traditional alliance with their District partners.

On the next day of training the girl from District 6 suffered a fall from the rock wall that rendered her ankle sprained. Through much debate it was determined that the capitol would heal her, establishing the baseline that minor scrapes and bruises incurred through training would not be treated but injuries worse than a sprain would. The tributes from the inner districts, which would be known as careers by the end of this year's Hunger Games, would instantly bond and form a group of five on the same day.

As with years prior, the tributes would display their skills in front of the audience. Despite the poor attitude from the District 11 male, the gamemakers largely agreed to give him the highest score, the sole 10 of the year. The dominant alliance was found to be the middle District coalition, mainly held by the District 7 female, District 8 male, and District 9 male. The inner districts produced respectable scores but were largely overshadowed by the years before them. Very few other Districts held a candle outside these alliances.

The next evening provided the interviews, now located behind a durable and tested tempered glass panel. The stereotypes of the districts were largely solidified during this time. Both from District 1 were cocky, with the girl adding a sexy kick to her interview. The two from District 2 were noble and rather stoic, quite the contrary to their upbringing. The girl from District 3 sang a song devoted to the periodic table of elements and her partner preceding her accidentally punched Flickerman in the face.

The girl from district 4 largely eclipsed her partner with her elegant posing and alluring voice. The two from District 5 were hardly any presence, but were still better than the shaking boy from district 6. The tributes from 7, 8, and 9 all shined prominently, with the boy from district 9 becoming a steadfast favorite with the adolescent audience. After him, the other tributes failed to make a mark. Even the massive boy from District 11 could not charm the audience with his thinly veiled dislike of the capitol.

With the pregames marked as a success despite the unusual dynamic,

District 1; Male: Bronze (17), 7, 26-1 odds; Female: Amira Lush (18), 8, 18-1 odds

District 2; Male: Dominic Adirondack (16), 7, 34-1 odds; Female: Priscilla Gunter (14), 5, 35-1 odds

District 3; Male: Hextor Ji-Hya (16), 6, 65-1 odds; Female: Pixel Shin-Lo, (12), 2, 121-1 odds

District 4; Male: Quezon Easter (12), 5, 70-1 odds; Female: Reyker Toire, (16), 8, 14-1 odds

District 5; Male: Niko Watterson Sosua (15), 5, 72-1 odds; Female: Hydrange Lillith di Eragon Knobmort II (16), 7, 40-1 odds

District 6; Male: Martin Aston (18), 1, 600-1 odds; Female: Muffy Belthund (14), 6, 48-1 odds

District 7; Male: Doug Shelby (16), 5, 56-1 odds; Female: Nina Chestford (16), 9, 20-1 odds

District 8; Male: Stritch Towsley (17), 8, 22-1 odds; Female: Woolia Chenille (14), 1, 540-1 odds

District 9; Male: Ambrose Caponthe (18), 9, 12-1 odds; Female: Flora Amaranth (16), 7, 32-1 odds

District 10; Male: Stacy Faverolles (14), 4, 88-1 odds; Female: Macie Wyandotte (18), 6, 73-1 odds

District 11; Male: Chironja Kinder (18), 10, 10-1 odds; Female: Ginger Pitaya( 15), 7, 30-1 odds

District 12; Male: Oliver Oreton (14), 2, 244-1 odds; Female: Indigo Kavelka (16), 4, 86-1 odds

District 13; Male: Darren Willoughby (15), 4, 82-1 odds; Female: Li'Conda Netrino (17), 6, 54-1 odds

* * *

_**In her words: Nina** _

Almost immediately after the plate rises out of the tube I'm struck by heat like I've never experienced before. All around me is a mist of heat and brown in almost every direction. I try to look for the cornucopia in this blistering heat but I'm blinded by the sun reflecting off of its now silver sheen.

_47, 46, 45_

I wipe the sweat off of my forehead just as I begin to look around. I can't see the others from the alliance anywhere. Nope, scratch that. Ambrose is two to my right. He's taking the heat much better but he's taken off his ridiculously poofy clothes. "Good idea," I murmur. I take off my sweater first, and instant relief hits me. I wrap it around my waist as the sun beats down on my now exposed arms.

_31, 30, 29_

Who else is near me? What else is near me? A small breeze kicks up at the pedestals to reveal almost nothing but weapons. There are packs but they're tiny and pale in comparison to the piles upon piles of weapons lining the cornucopia. In the cornucopia itself is a mobile air conditioning unit. At least from what I see. Ridiculous.

_24, 23, 22, 21, 20_

Next to me is the twelve year old from District 12. She's panting heavily too and she hasn't taken off her clothes at all. My other side has one of the boys from the other districts. He's young, either Oliver or Quezon from 4. I can't see bark nor bite of the rest of our alliance but I think in the chaos we'll have to look for others.

_13, 12, 11_

The rest of the tributes seem to be taking off their clothes too. Two to my left the rather strong boy from District 11 is taking off what he has on, but he doesn't seem as affected by the heat as others are. I can't avoid him this close. Wait, there's Doug. Hopefully he can get to us without dying.

_3, 2, 1_

The countdown ends and the sprint to the cornucopia is much slower this time around. I trip over the sand and find that underneath the sand is a small bum bag. I grab it in my hands as Ambrose runs up to me. He helps me up with his steady hands. "Should we dig?" he worriedly asks.

"Later," I say. The boy from District 11 is the closest to the cornucopia but even so he's only half way there. "Let's just grab what we can."

"Got it," he says before running away. I steady myself up and make a dive to a pile of weapons. Ambrose heads forward closer to the landmark amidst some others. Huh, there's a lot less people running to the cornucopia this year. I wonder why.

The screams begin as I try to run towards Doug. He's kicking up sand and trying to fend off someone from another District. Awkwardly I swing my axe towards her. She dodges the first swing and tries to kick me. She notices my axe and tries to back up but then she gets my axe to her chest and nothing more.

_26th, Hydrange Lillith di Knobmort, District 5 Female, 16 years old, Axed by Nina Chestford (D7F)_

Relieved, Doug and I head further to the middle where Ambrose is escaping with a bit of supplies. The district 4 boy cuts in front of us, chased by the girl from District 11. Fear in his eyes, the boy looks over at us and we throw him behind us. While he cowers Doug and I look at the girl, who clearly has fear and madness in her eyes, but she droops and falls over.

"Quick," Ambrose says, a pile of supplies in his hands.

_25th, Ginger Pitaya, District 11 Female, 17 years old, Speared by Ambrose Caponthe (D9M)_

"Did you see the others?" Doug worriedly asks.

"No," Ambrose says bluntly. "Let's go, there's little else here."

He thrusts the bags to Doug and I as another scream echoes through the battlefield.

_24th, Stacy Faverolles, District 10 Male, 14 years old, Disemboweled by Amira Lush (D1F)_

The three of us run across the sand and cover our eyes as we blindly escape the battlefield. "The dunes!" I shout. We climb over one of the sandy landmarks and take a mighty tumble down the other side.

_23rd, Martin Aston, District 6 Male, 18 years old, Throat slit by Chironja Kinder (D11M)_

"Hey," Ambrose says. "Looks like we have a tracker."

The District 4 boy who ran in front of me and Doug stands in front of Ambrose, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. "We don't have to do this now," Doug says hesitantly.

"Why'd you follow us?" Ambrose says, holding a dagger high above him.

"I thought," he says with a cough that lasts for so long.

"Speak up," I say, leveling an ax at him.

"I got you guys some things," he says helplessly. "And Leon can send me things! I think he can send a lot of things! Please!" He looks around helplessly and points to an oasis. "Look!"

Keeping most of our eyes on him, he explains. "That has a lot of food! I can swim and grab whatever is in there! I can get you food! You're going to need to eat, right?"

_22nd, Pixel Shin-Lo, District 3 Female, 12 years old, Bludgeoned with club by Dominic Adirondack (D2M)_

"The sand dune should provide some form of shelter," Ambrose says, lowering his sword. "You can stay with us as long as you can provide what you provide. The moment you don't you're out."

"What's your name kid?" I ask in a voice much gentler.

"Quezon," he says quietly. "Thank you for.. For…"

"That was all Ambrose over there," I say, pointing to Ambrose as he opens up his bag. "I'd tell him a bit later though, he's probably a bit preoccupied."

"You'd better get going kid, these bags don't have a lot of shit to carry," Doug says. The two of us watch the boy head off to the oasis with a small bag of his own. He leaves behind three nice sized bags with us. "Did he bring all of those with him?"

"Guess the kid is stronger than he looks." It doesn't surprise me, I bet in District 4 they haul fish day after day on ship after ship. They must be starting them young. Doug and I have been working for years in our lumber yard and from the looks of Ambrose he might have started much younger than us.

I'm shot out of my thoughts when the cannons begin to fire.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

"FIVE?" Ambrose asks. "That small amount?"

"I guess a lot of people didn't make the run," I say with a thoughtful gaze at the kid. "I guess Citrus isn't as bloodthirsty as he looks."

"Chironja," Doug corrects. "We have a good amount of supplies, and there's a ring of trees around that oasis."

"Guess we should join the kid. What's his name?" Ambrose asks.

"Quezon," Doug says.

The three of us find the boy huddled under a tree. He has a couple of parachutes with him and his bag is open. It looks like he was trying to make all the contents fit in them. "Kid," Ambrose says. "You said you could get some food for us."

"Yeah!" he perks up. "Look!"

He points to one of his canisters and opens it to find some fruit and ice. "I told you Leon would do it! Umm, there's some bony fish too. We can try eating them but all that they can do is give protein."

"Good," Ambrose says neutrally. "Well, nothing to do but wait. This sun is really starting to sting. I don't suppose your mentor has enough in him to send some sunblock?"

"Well, umm, there was this thing," the kid says. He holds up a tube about six inches long. "I already used some of it but it helps with the heat. This is going to be another hard year I think."

"No duh," Doug says. "I would have even gone for that rocky year. The third right?" I shrug my shoulders and open my bag. "It was either the third or the fourth."

Ambrose, the kid, and Doug continue their conversation. In the bag I find the usual, some dried fruit, a bag of nuts, a tiny water bottle, a pack of iodine tablets, and a tank top and pair of shorts. I hold the pair of shorts up in my hands and investigate it. It's a rather breathable material and seems lighter than the snow pants and even the shorts I have on underneath. The heat seems to increase so I reluctantly strip off my snow pants and ball it up with my jacket.

The kid has already opened up his package that has some of the fruit he bragged so much about. Doug hands over Ambrose his pack and Ambrose opens it up. "Nina, do you want to come with me to set this thing up?"

"What is it?" I inquire.

"Looks like shelter material, and we also might need to get a fire going."

"In this heat?"

As I raise my eyebrow the kid stands up. "The water is salty, so if we have a container to boil it then I cam make something to make the water fresh."

"I found a pot in my bag, and some plastic wrap," Doug says. "How do you know how to turn salt into fresh?"

The kid and Doug begin talking about the simple science behind it all as Ambrose and I head in the direction of a cluster of three trees. "This has a net and a tarp. It won't be much of a shelter but at least it'll give us some more shade. Net facing the water or facing the sand?"

"I say facing the sand, it's an extra layer if people choose to ambush us."

As we set up the shelter I steal a couple of appreciative glances towards Ambrose as he fixes the corners of the tarp to the trees. We're able to hover the tarp some five feet off of the ground and we wrap the net on the side facing the sand. "Looks just like the shelter's we'd make for long days in the field," Ambrose says with a grin. "You okay Nina? Maybe you should head in the water."

"I feel fine," I say. "Why do you mention that?"

"You're just looking a lot more red flushed than usual, come on, dip your feet in the water at least for a bit," he encourages. "Here, let's go together if swimming isn't your strong suit."

"What a gentleman," I remark. That earns a laugh from him as the two of us dip our toes in the water, feeling the coldness of the water contrast with the warmth of the sand. I take a seat with my axe behind me and he does the same with the sword. "Do you think Stitch and Woolia are doing well for themselves?"

"I don't see why not," Ambrose says. "Just because Woolia's blind doesn't mean that she can't kick ass. I just hope they have Flora is with them."

"Three is better than two," I add. "But Flora isn't the kind of person to go crazy on their own. I gathered that much. But.. do you think she was one of the cannons?"

Ambrose breathes heavily before he dips further in the water, sitting up. "I don't… I don't want to be the bad guy for saying this, but she was gunning for a quick death, and I hope that if she did go in the bloodbath she got it."

"I mean," I start. "No one really tries to torture in the games, right? So I don't think torture is something to worry about. And district 9 is warmer than District 7 so she should adapt better to the heat, right?"

"Here's hoping."

The two of us sit in the water and are joined by the kid and Doug not much later. We sit at the edge of the water for a while before Doug and Ambrose stand up to set something of a fire. They almost found Geryon from last year when he set his fire so I hope that they make it safely. The day turns into a dull twilight when the flame goes up. "That's good," the kid says. "Umm, thank you for saving me."

"Well so long as you keep getting us the food then you don't need to thank me for much else."

"Right," he says. "There are a lot of things in this lake that I don't really recognize but there are just as many that look like they're from home. I always thought they couldn't live in the desert."

"The gamemakers can probably put more there if we need it, so we ought to be good." the kid and I look at the water for a prolonged moment. The day finally turns into night when I ask, "Why'd you join us?"

When I get no response I turn around to see the boys sitting around the fire, an open canister between them, and them splitting up some kind of meat. "Nina," Doug calls out. "Look what Ambrose's mentor gave us!"

The smell of pork is unmistakable and smells rather good. "If we can get some salt water we can have it preserved," I perk up. "Well, smells good."

"Had a lot of pork from the rich neighbor," Ambrose says.

When we split up the dinner the kid takes much less than the three of us. Doug offers a small portion of his pork but the kid shakes his head and pulls out a small fish. He puts it on our fire and it cooks.

The smell of fish permeates when the nightly anthem begins. I look to the sky and see that the first face is the girl from district 3. What was her name? I thought she was much older than that, but she looks really young in the sky. She was tall for her age. After her is the girl who tried to attack Doug. Hydra or something… I killed her with an axe. She didn't go out well.

The next of the faces in the sky is druggie from District 6. I'm doubtful that he killed one of the others. He almost fell off his chariot after fainting on the reaping stage. At least he went quickly. After him is the District 10 boy. He was rather young from what I remember. He didn't stand out otherwise. The girl who tried to kill the kid is up next, Ambrose got her from what I remember. Jinger or something.

The faces, anthem, and seal all disappear. I turn back to the others to see them warily fanning the flames of the fire. "Who wants to keep watch?" the kid asks.

"Doug and I can do it," I speak up. "So long as it's fine with Doug."

"Do we need two people to watch over us?" asks the kid.

"Well," Ambrose says. "I think it's a good idea. That way if one of you falls asleep then the other can stay up."

"Actually, you know what, it's fine," I shake my head. "I'll stay up for a bit at least. The three of you can take over tomorrow."

"Okay," the kid says. "Goodnight!"

The three of us watch him head over to the shelter, much more chipper than a kid really should be in this situation. "I'll keep an eye on Quezon," Doug says.

Both he and Ambrose head over rather quietly and crawl under the shelter. I hold my axe close to me as I stare into the fire. In the embers the face of the girl I killed pops up. I spend a while staring at her before she disappears. "Why'd you do it?" the fires seem to speak.

"I had to kill someone soon! If not I would have died in the bloodbath."

The voices in the fire swirl into my mother, my father, my brothers, my sister- "Just do what you need. But know that you are not-"

"I know who I am!"

The faces in the fire disappear, and the figures start to materialize in the figures of the oasis. For what seems to be hours on end I find myself fixated in the swirling dust that occasionally appears in the distance. I stand up and head over to one that's really close by but it disappears before I get a chance to look at it. On my trek back, I find Ambrose sitting at the fire. "Maybe you should get a couple of hours of sleep."

"I'm not gonna pressure you to do my job for me."

"Who were you talking to?"

"My family," I snort. "A day in and the arena already has me going crazy."

"Big family?"

"Not big, just… broken," I sigh. "My older brother is in the peacekeepers and shipped to District 12. My younger brother and sister are off in the community home, and my parents are smoking up the local tavern. "

"Rough."

"Don't need to tell me twice. And it's not just them, my brother's bitch of an ex girlfriend is rooming with us, and she has their boy with them."

"How old is your brother?"

"Eighteen," I say quietly. "Your age, if a little older. Do you have any siblings?"

"Five little brothers and four older sisters. No parents," he says sadly. "But well, that's enough moping. I'm not going to go insane by talking about my family tonight. Head to bed, maybe tomorrow the gamemakers will actually bring snow."

"I'm willing to bet my brother's ex girlfriend's fat tit that it'll rain sprinkles before it snows." I chuckle to myself as Ambrose looks on blankly. I crawl under the shelter and wait for sleep to come over me.

I guess that after the insanity of the night, I don't have a bad dream. The day doesn't bring sprinkles or snow or even mud, just another scorcher of a day that bites harder than a thorn. I see the kid off in the lake with Ambrose hunting for some food and Doug is in the shade of one of the trees. It seems like Doug has a small parachute with him. "Where's mine?" I grumble.

No white chute comes down from the sky, not even a small handkerchief. Sighing to myself I walk over to Doug as he huddled under the shade. The day is hot but it's manageable. "Look what Benholio got us," he says. He holds up a small trowel and an eggplant. "I'm willing to bet the eggplant is yours."

I slap him lightly. "It's not my fault you got drunk and told him about eggplants and cucumbers!"

"Just don't bring that up," I harrumph. "And if it really was for me I'm sure he would have gotten me a note. Maybe your fans in the capitol like your biceps."

There's a bit of awkward silence that comes as both Ambrose and the kid show up with eggs. "Have you guys heard any cannons?" the kid asks.

"No," Doug says with an inflection. "Wouldn't you hear it in the water?"

"It's hard to hear things in the water. It's not that deep but even at 10 feet below the surface you can't really… hear things. I almost forgot that we were here."

"Well then, let's get some eggs going. We can use the containers as a pan," Ambrose says. The breakfast today smells a little funky but when we all eat them, we feel mostly fine. It tastes disgusting though. "Are you sure these eggs are safe?"

"They're just like the ones back home," the kid says. "If you don't want them can I have the ones you don't want?"

With a shrug I poke over an egg to the kid and he slurps it down. "Actually i remembered the water de salt thing wrong," the kid speaks up. "We don't need a fire."

"Oh? Then how are we gonna do it?"

"Just need the heat and the sun. And some rocks for that part. And the plastic. I can make it up with teh plastic we have."

"Go ahead and tinker just a bit then," Doug encourages. "I found some reeds in the dirt if we need to use that. And take the trowel if you need it."

The kid heads off into the sun with a canister like a kid would go off getting some flowers in the garden. "What are we going to do with him?" Ambrose says once he's out of earshot.

That gets no response. There are still 20 of us alive, 13 of us are outside the alliance. "As logn as we aren't over half the remaining tributes then I think our alliance can stand," I say. "It'll have to end when it ends."

"They all do," Doug echoes.

The kid manages to get a respectable still up and running with the canisters, plastic, rocks, trowel, and reeds. He's able to hide it with some leaves and he joins us. The rest of the day is rather boring. We have another quick meal of pork and fruit. I hide my bag under the ground near our shelter at one point.

It's a day of nothing else. The night comes down on us and there are no faces. Doug and the kid decide to keep watch and Ambrose and I stay in the shelter for a little bit. "The arena got me," Ambrose says. "I keep seeing that girl who tried to kill the kid, and I don't even know her name!"

He collapses on the sand with a huff and covers his face with his hands. "What kind of person am I?" he says.

"You're not one of those people who take the Games like a Career, if that's any consolation. I know it's little, but you could be a worse person. Like one of those war criminals."

"Let's… not talk about those days," he suggests.

"I get you," I oblige. "I take it your parents don't want you talking about that?"

"Not necessarily," he says. "Well, do you want me to sleep on the other side of the tent? I know how important privacy is for girls."

"What a gentleman," I say with a smile. "Is that chivalry or is the sun getting to you?"

"I think the sun is getting to the both of us if we can still feel it during the night."

"So, goodnight then?"

"Yep," he says. No sooner does he roll over do I hear snoring from him. It's rather loud and dramatic but I'm glad he cares enough to pretend he trusts me.

When sleep follows just a bit later, the first thing that appears from the mist in my dreams is an axe. I'm chasing it through sand, through dirt, through pine needles, but then the wolf thing from last year intercepts me. I back up, petrified. Another nightmare of the wolf thing.

The wolf thing opens up wider than it should and it cackles, cackles! It throws up a bag, blood, pine needles, and leers it's wolf's grin. "You belong to us Miss Chestfort. You really do."

"MY NAME IS NINA CHESTFORD!" I shout. I'm breathing heavily when I feel someone shaking my shoulder.

"Nina?" Ambrose asks. He lets go of my shoulders and sits on the ground. The sun is coming up, just barely, and the kid and Doug have made their way into the shelter.

"My name is Nina Chestford," I breathlessly replied.

"Yeah," Ambrose says. "I know. Were you dreaming about someone who called you Chester or something like that?"

"Exactly like that," I reply. The dream is already fading from my memories but I begin to shiver. "I guess it's our turn to dive in the lake for food?"

"Might as well. Kid and Doug are both knocked out from the looks of it. Our sponsors don't seem to be giving us much in the way of food so I guess we actually have to prove our merit and shit like that."

The two of us head out of the shelter and take off our shoes and head into the water. It's mercifully cold in the morning and I know enough about water to know that when the sun comes up that it won't be heating the water up. I dive into the water just a little bit as I'm not a strong swimmer and wake up sopping wet. Ambrose seems to have followed my lead, a lot more hesitantly, but he follows me nonetheless. "Don't you have swimming holes in District 9?"

"Not so much swimming holes as they are pits that fill up after floods," he says. "And trust me, you do not want to swim in those. It's not like older kids like me can swim all that often."

"My folks wouldn't even consider you a kid, they'd consider you a working adult," I snort. I begin to wade out into some deeper water as Ambrose skirts the shallower parts of the lake. I begin to float on my back as Ambrose stretches in the water, stretching his rather defined abs and chiseled pecs. The District 9 boys are usually very hot, when they're old enough, and Ambrose is no exception. He does catch me occasionally looking at him but something about the way he and I exchange awkward glances suggest that he's staring at me.

Before the sun gets too high he heads out of the water with a small haul of tiny fish. I head deeper into the water to find a bigger, meatier fish. I wrestle it into my hands and it flails around, cutting my arms just a bit before I flop it onto the shore. It gets covered in sand but dies rather quickly. "Big guy there," Ambrose says.

"You've got an entire group with you," I say.

"The umm, proper term is school," the kid says. "Do you need me to cut them up?"

All of a sudden a large gust of wind kicks up and sends dirt and sand everywhere. We curl up in balls and make sure we close our eyes. I feel branches, dirt, sand, and even a splash of water over my back. I try to open my mouth to try to ask the others but all I get is a handful of dust.

FInally, the sandstorm ends, the kid looks rather bloodied and Ambrose has a fair bit of sand on him. I find myself covered in sand and head back to the water. To my dismay the water is much farther from our camp and has a much smaller space of area. I stop just short of the water and turn around.

"That fucking sucks," Doug says hoarsely. He took the brunt of the sand storm and looks like he's had some water splashed on him.

"Easy Doug," Ambrose says. "Let's get some water to clean you." Ambrose rubs his eyes rather roughly and they turn a rather bloody red. "We'll have to bounce back from this."

"The fish?" I ask.

"I have them here," the kid says. "We need a new fire though. I think the dust took it out."

Doug points to himself and heads over to trees to pick up some wood. "You okay kid?" I ask, walking over to him. "You just look a little dirty, don't worry."

"Everything here works fine just for me," he says. "You look worse off than me."

"I may do so but we should get your arms checked out, just don't move anything, okay?"

He nods quietly and sits as I shake the sand from my shirt and wrap it around him. There's a small amount of blood but for the most part he looks clean. Three parachutes come down from the sky, a bigger one with 7, a small one with 4, and a medium one labeled with a 9. I jump up and grab all three of them. "Ambrose!" I shout. "We've got some shit from our mentors!"

I open up mine to find a tube of anti bacterial cream, some bandages, and some rather… rather skimpy clothes for both me and Doug. There are two bottles in here, one smaller than the other. I take the bigger one and look for my district partner. The kid goes to him and guts the fish. Doug looks at the package and pulls out his clothes, eagerly slipping them on before a hacking cough returns.

Ambrose comes over to us with our sand filled supplies. He dumps them on the ground as I give him his parachute. A cannon fires.

_21st Priscilla Gunter, District 2 Female, 15 years old, Smothered by Macie Wyandotte (D10F)_

Newly alert, Doug, Ambrose, the Kid, and I jump to our feet and look around the Oasis. Nothing. Another cannon fires.

_20th, Macie Wyandotte, District 10 Female, 18 years old, Partially decapitated by Dominic Adirondack (D2M)_

Once the sense of unease manages to die down the four of us finally put some fish on the fire. We begin eating without much fanfare. "I can't find our fucking net," Ambrose rbeaks the silence. "And I don't feel so good with this gift my escort got me."

I wince as he holds up a can of mosquito spray and so does the kid. "We need to ration this out. I'm not gonna leave the three of you hanging while we're still allied."

"I got some too," the kid says. "What else did you guys get?"

"Some clothes," I say, trying to keep my disgust out.

"Same here," Ambrose says. "They hardly cover anything though."

"Anything less than what you're already wearing?" I retort.

"Well…" he holds up a skimpy jockstrap and blushes. I cover the kid's eyes as he puts the jockstrap over his shorts. It constricts around his area and I cover the kid's eyes with both of my hands. "This doesn't feel good." His voice is higher than normal before he takes it off, packing the jockstrap into his canister, and putting into a dug out portion of our shelter.

The rest of the day is full of quiet conversation and debates over the practicalities of District 8 making the assorted clothes that they've graciously given us. When Ambrose paints an image of Woolia getting fired over sewing something way too small because of her blindness I can't help but grab my sides in laughter.

Day turns into night and the first face in the sky is the District 2 girl. I wonder if she died of the sun or if she died to a tribute. She wasn't like one of the stronger tributes from District 2 but she did outlast 6 others so that has to mean something, right? After her is the girl from District 10. We tried to get her into our alliance but she was rather sure of herself. She was trying to emulate her mentor or something. I can't help but feel just a little bad as her face disappears.

"I'm staying watch tonight," Ambrose says. "Anyone willing to join me?"

"I got it," I say "Doug doesn't look like he's in the best state. And I didn't last night."

That seems to go over well with the other two members of our alliance. Doug coughs up the last of sand and says goodnight with a hint of a raspy tone. Both Ambrose and I huddle around the fire closer as the night gets ever so slightly cooler. "So," he starts. "I suppose I ought to tell you about my family."

"Where'd you get that impression?"

"Since you started telling me about your bastard brother and his ex girlfriend."

"Might as well," I say.

"I was lying a bit when I said no parents. My dad ran off to another District and my mom is in and out of prison."

"Prison?"

"Yeah," he winces. "I have no idea where my dad is and my mom got a life sentence. She did some rather nasty things."

There's a bit of silence as the fire begins to crack. "How bad is it?"

"I'm not sure all of my siblings are my siblings." There's a rustle in the trees. Ambrose and I stare at each other before I stand up first. I tilt my head in its direction and he nods, picking up a knife and a mall short sword with him. "I got this at the cornucopia," he says rather defensively.

I nod and the two of us creep up on the rustling bush. I hear an animalistic moan as I head around the back and the first thing of the creature heads up. Its brown snout pops up and blinks almost innocently. The three of us look at each other before it hocks up a massive loogie and throws it in my direction. I roll to the side, vaguely aware of the sizzling hole just behind me.

In no time at all Ambrose runs his short sword across the creature's throat and it falls to the floor. The animal lets out a dying breath that echoes through the night. I hold my ax tightly as Ambrose and I look at each other.

From out of nowhere there' a flurry of bugs from the bush. They're giant, ghastly things, with hard greenish shells and spit some dark blue things from their stomach. Ambrose and I flail around and manage to kill a couple before one of them comes down to the camp. It takes a package of something and flies into the night. "The fuck was that?" I ask.

Ambrose and I look at each other. Without a doubt that's probably the weirdest thing to have happened in this accursed arena so far. "Think it took something important?"

"We're still alive, so I don't think so," I reply.

We go back to the fire and sit. "Where were we?"

"Talking about siblings I think. I told you that my brothers taught me to fight during training, didn't I? Well, that was only half true. My older brother Cypress taught me a couple of things since he used to be a big scrapper with the tavern flies. I only used them to protect my younger brother, Glen."

"Glen didn't learn anything from Cypress?"

"Cypress was in the lumberyard when Glen often came home. He's a little, you know…" The word escapes me before I settle on 'effeminate'. "He's not a fighter neither, he'd rather spend his days making comics out of paper than working in the lumber yards like normal kids."

"I have a feeling my older sister is something like that too. Trish. She pulls her weight just fine but she's rather… for lack of a better word sleepy, and she's way too concerned in fashion."

"All girls are," I reply. "I mean little Lilac is already trying to knit just like her teacher. And I bet she's already making a name for herself."

"Capitol knows I could use some shirt right now. I mean you'd think they'd get tired of my bare stomach."

"I have a feeling that that's precisely the reason they aren't sending you a shirt. You have a better body than a lot of the guys here. Can't say on behalf of all the other girls though."

"Now if only the girls back home were easily charmed by me as you are to me."

"Flash them abs. That's a weakness for a lot of girls."

"Are you always this overt with flirting?"

"W-Wha?!" I choke. "I'm just stating the facts!"

"Nina, you and I were holding more than gazes during our time in the water," he says almost mockingly. "You know…" He hesitates.

"Yeah?"

"I'll… tell you later," he says. The two of us just spend the rest of time enjoying our presence in front of the fire. He really is pretty good looking, the low embers of the flames help that out as much, but I can't be focused on well, him. Three days in and only 8 are gone.

I have a feeling the capitol is going to do something weird.

Day finally breaks over the arena and Doug and the kid take over. Both Ambrose and I head into our shelter, which feels rather strange without the net. I fall asleep rather quickly. I have a particularly unflattering but rather steamy dream.

_19th, Muffy Belthund, District 6 Female, 14 years old, throat slit by Stritch Trowsley (D8M)_

Ambrose and I sit around a dead body that's on fire. There's a distinct smell of sand around the area we are all in. Ambrose is a reassuring figure even in this location. The words that come of his mouth are haunting and distorted, but somehow I understand him. We hug, and then it turns into more.

I wake up next to Ambrose. He has one arm around me and I seem to be glued to his bare chest. I push myself off of him and he wraps his arm away from me. "Am I that repulsive?" he asks.

"I just didn't want to disturb you," I deflect. "Anyways I'm hungry. Did I miss anything?"

"I woke up when you pushed me away. Nothing much happened, but we'd better ask the others."

Doug crawls into the shelter when the heat gets particularly hot. "It's a hot day today. We found some fruit from the trees. They're stinky as all hell though. Oh, we umm, heard a cannon."

Ambrose and I join the kid by the wear and take a bit of the fruit. Doug was right. It has a repugnant smell and it's hard to get down. But I've swallowed worse. Ambrose doesn't take too kindly to it though. "I wonder if District 11 made this in particular. It tastes good but it's hard to swallow," the kid muses out loud. "There's one more gone today. I don't know if Doug told you."

That's the extent of conversation today that's really noteworthy. It turns out that the pack we had contained most of our extra clothes. It's not important, and we don't need it for the weather. I think I manage to drink enough to actually use the restroom, which still doesn't feel like enough especially when a couple of days ago we were eating more in a day than we could in weeks.

Day turns into night and the face that we see in the sky is the District 6 girl. There are no other faces after her, there shouldn't be. Doug and Ambrose plant sticks in the dirt for a little game and the kid manages to find some round rocks to help them out. It's a boring day today, and sleep comes over easily.

The next day is uneventful for the most part. I wake up with little fanfare to the same blistering heat and wash myself in the lake with Ambrose and Doug while the kid handles food collection. I forget how long we've been in the arena and I don't really want to ask. The death rate has been really really slow. I don't want to jinx myself but we could realistically be here for three long weeks.

The kid and I talk about food. We're Running out of things to talk about. Doug joins in the conversation with some of the maple syrup candy that he's made with his sibling. Like clockwork, the day turns into night, and when we confirm that there are no deaths in the day, Ambrose and I head up for watch.

"I think I'm withering away in this arena," Ambrose says once Doug and the kid head to sleep.

"Did you not stock up on food in the Capitol?"

"I was way too worried about my abs and my female fandom. They're disappearing like my muscle mass," he jokes.

"You're still sexy, don't count yourself out. I don't think there'd be a lot of guys there attracted to someone looking like me. Best I can fucking hope for is that someone would be interested in a murderer."

"Not that this matters but I did think you were pretty attractive in the training center," he says.

A lull in the conversation comes up as he and I stare occasional glances towards each other. "I think this heat is making both of us think weird fucking shit," I finally say.

"I'm going to dip my head in the water just to clear my head. I don't suppose you wanna join me?"

"I'll be here with the fire, pretending that I barely exist."

"Well that seems boring. Don't you want me over to give you at least some sort of fun?"

I stare at Ambrose as he puts on the most ridiculous flirtatious face on him and try my best not to break into a laugh. I pull him close with his chin and stare into his hazel eyes. "How about I clear my head with you? The lust must be from the heat and I sure as fuck wanna fuck you, but let's just clear our heads before we get hasty."

Ambrose's laugh becomes way too infectious as he helps me up. He sure knows how to treat a girl. We do dip our heads in, but if anything, that just magnifies our mutual lust a bit more. In the low campfire's light our hands find our bodies and…

The night passes by in a blur and I have a newfound affection for the District 9 boy.

Which makes it all the worse we're in this fucking hellhole.

Day breaks rather unceremoniously and both Ambrose and I clean up before the kid and Doug begin hunting for food for the day. In the shelter, I find myself cuddling up to Ambrose to sleep, and as I've expected, he does so as well.

Ambrose is shirtless in my dream but he's much more similar to how he looked in District 9. His curly hair is a little wilder and he introduces me to his group of siblings. A bushel of grain is on fire in the dream but luckily my older brother is there to put it out with his peacekeeper corps. My sister happily knits as Glen and one of Ambrose's siblings plays chess.

I wake up practically glued to Ambrose. "Did you stay here because I couldn't let you go?"

"No," he says. "I could throw you off me any time I wanted. But I wanted you here more."

"You never told me about your siblings' names," I complain.

His face and muscles get rigid but he pats my hair away. "Maybe tomorrow. I think the kid and Doug might want someone to keep them company."

Ambrose and I join Doug and the kid while they seem to tease rather vulgarly. It's not much of a day today. Ambrose and I do get some parachutes with some cold apples, oranges, two bottles of water… and a set of condoms. "The nerve of some people!" I shout.

"Don't get any ideas," Doug says as he looks to the kid.

The conversation we do have is light and fluffy and not much of substance. I can bet that the capitol i probably waiting for death. Admittedly all the lack of death is making me worried. The Gamemakers have forced tributes together in the past, with feasts, but they haven't been around lately. I wonder if they don't have them because of the sponsorship system, so that probably means that we aren't having a feast.

Day turns into night after the capitol fanfare and Doug and the kid set up watch.

Ambrose and I sit together under the shelter, hands interlaced, and just breathe and exist together. I haven't felt this way about a guy in a long time. Maybe it's because of Death's lingering stare but I'm talking to him a lot more than I expect I would have in this stupid arena. At least he's a good pillow and his muscles somehow seem firmer in the arena.

I don't know when I fall asleep but at least it's with someone I trust.

_18th, Pixel Shin-Lo, District 3 Female, 12 years old, throat slit by Amira Lush (D1F)_

"Hey," Ambrose says worriedly. He pats my shoulders and I rub my eyes. "Doug and the kid are calling us."

It's still dark when I open my eyes. Doug and the kid hold weapons feebly as they call for us. "Come over," the kid says worriedly. The shaking in his voice is obvious.

I toss another ax to Doug that he grips tightly. "What are we looking for?" I ask him.

"Figures," he says. "They look human."

"Hope it isn't lizards," I snipe.

The figures finally begin to manifest. There are three of them, walking haphazardly and almost slovenly. One of them is holding their leg in what seems to be a makeshift crutch. I hear one of them curse rather vulgarly and the other replies that they can't necessarily see. "Hold it," Ambrose says. "Stritch!"

One of them, the healthier one, begins walking to us much quicker, almost dropping the other. "Ambrose!"

As my eyes slowly get accustomed to the darkness I Realize it's our allies. Ambrose hoists Flora over his shoulder as Doug and I run over to Stritch and Woolia. "I've got you Woolia," Doug says, holding his hand sturdy.

The reunion could have been done in better light, but the fact is that all of our allies are finally still alive. "It took awhile for us to find you. We were ambushed by the inner districts," Woolia explains. I hold some fruit up to her and she takes it from the air.

"Fucking bitch got me in my consternated knee," Flora gripes.

"How many of them were there?" I ask, curious.

"The tributes from One, the tributes from 2, and the tributes from 4," Stritch explains. "When we ran from the bloodbath someone hung onto us so we just took them in. They got her while we escaped."

"Was she from District 4?" the kid asks, speaking up.

Stritch turns to him and there's a flash of anger in his eyes. "Aren't you from 4?" he says coldly.

"My name is Quezon Easter," the kid says. Doug gets between Stritch and Quezon preemptively.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Flora asks, fixing her leg.

"District 4? I joined the others because I didn't want to die in the bloodbath…" Quezon sounds like he's about to run.

"He's staying with us for now," Ambrose speaks up.

"He's been keeping us fed," I chime in. "Let's rest now, and if there's anything we need to hash out in the morning then we can hash it out then."

That seems to go over well with the others. Ambrose and I decide to let the kid, Woolia, Flora, and Doug take the shelter as Stritch, me, and Ambrose stay watch. "I didn't want to take that fucking 12 year old in," he says bitterly. "Now they're dead."

"We all have to die sometime," Ambrose says grimly.

Stritch and Ambrose look at each other rather darkly and the conversation dies. "We have supplies," Stritch says. "The 12 year old got us some shit from her pampered mentor, but her mentor was well, more dollars than brain cells if I say so myself. We do have a lot of water, so that's no problem. And Woolia's been holding her canister like it's a baby or some shit."

"Good. With the more of us we're going to need more supplies. I don't think that the kid can find food for all of us. Maybe tomorrow I'll help him and Doug out."

"That means Ambrose and I can spend some time catching up. I see he's lost his shirt."

"Yeah you've lost it too, what's it to you?"

"Hear that Paisley, we don't need any more candies when we've got some eye candy right here." He lets out a dry laugh and cracks open some canned water. The rest of the night is rather silent. I curl up next to Ambrose, something that Stritch notices, and day finally comes.

The others wake up. Doug and Woolia and Flora start talking as Stritch, the kid, and I head down to the lake and hunt for some kind of food. There are still fish but some more parachute come down. Our allies on the shore grab them and we find three hearty fish for us. Hopefully there's no dust storm that spreads us all apart… or for that matter weird bug things, or mutts.

"How are you doing Woolia?" I ask as we take a bite of peaches.

"As well as I can in this situation. I miss my parents," she sadly replies. "But I cried a lot about it already. I just need to do what I need to do."

"We're better together if that's what you're thinking Woolia," Flora says.

"We have to last for as long as possible," the kid says. "I don't want to die in the desert!"

At his outburst Flora and Doug place a reassuring hand on his knees. He tells us about his stories about boating and how he was so sure he was going to die in water in a ship. Somehow this starts off a conversation about our deaths if they were outside the arena. I chime in with my own macabre death suffocating in poison ivy in district 7 after Stritch tells us a horrid story about death by being fed into an automated loom.

"I've never thought about that," Ambrose says. "Lot of people die from fire or grain suffocation. I'd've probably been the dumbass who choked on some rice or something."

"I just picture death as going to sleep," Woolia says. "Sometimes sleep comes from hard places and sometimes it comes from easier places. There really is no good way to fall asleep. I know doctors can and will disagree but I'm not paying them for their opinions. Or facts for that matter. And what's the big deal about going to sleep? It's just darkness. People act like darkness is something to be worried about."

Her speech continues for another five minutes. "Took the words out of my mouth," Doug says. "I'd probably get sick from some kind of fungus or something. They're nasty. My dad is the assistant to the apothecary and he saw a lot of funguses out there."

"Sounds appetizing," Ambrose says as he rolls his eyes. That lightens the mood and immediately Stritch asks for our help in building a smaller shelter. The boys build the shelter rather quickly for their faction of this ally.

One of our mentors manages to get us some kind of edible mushrooms, which is at least a decent different taste from all of the fish we've been eating lately. The round tops go off easily and head into our mouths. I have half a mind to save some of it for myself as the others, notably Woolia and Doug, seem to finish their shares quickly.

No faces in the sky tonight.

"So who do we want taking the first shift?" Doug asks. "I for one say that Ambrose and Nina spend some time in the shelter."

"Why them in particular?" Flora chimes in.

"Well, they woke up to welcome you guys, and they stayed up late to let you guys sleep. And you all have been walking for quite some distance. I just want to make sure you get your leg well rested," he says defensively.

"Okay, Ambrose and Nina get one tent. I think that two more at max can take another shelter," the kid pipes up.

"How about you kid?" I chime in. "Seems like you could use some sleep to calm you down or something."

"Okay," he readily agrees. "And maybe Woolia and Flora too. Since well, Woolia can't quite… well keep watch for us."

"We're all allies," Ambrose states. "We all watch for each other. So maybe Nina and I can take the smaller tent while the others go for the bigger tent."

That seems to settle the conversation. I head off with Ambrose after making sure Flora, the kid, and Woolia head into their shelter. Doug and Stritch seem to be engaged in a conversation of random things when Ambrose and I head into our tent. "How long do you think this will last?" Ambrose asks.

"What specifically?"

"All of us?" he pessimistically asks.

"It's going to have to happen." I curl up close to him and wrap my arms around his chest. "There's not going to be enough food for all of us for long. You and I had the most to eat and look at us, we're practically skeletons."

"I know it's small comfort but I'm sure there are people in your District who think that you look beautiful. I know I do, even when you're skinny and hungry."

"You're much more attractive when you don't go into that sappy shit, don't you know?" I deadpan. "AT leaset we all have each other."

"I guess," he says rather tiredly. I pull him closer as he breathes rather slowly.

I don't know when I fall asleep. I do know I start dreaming about three hours into my sleep. I remember vaguely learning something like that from the apothecary. Ambrose and I are on a field with the others off in the distance. It's happy for now but then there's an alert for a tornado. I try to run away but the world loses its traction. All around me Woolia, Flora, and Doug fly into the tornado screaming and screaming.

Ambrose gently wakes me up and the heat of the day finally hits me. "Scorcher," I say.

"Looks like we're not going to be productive today," he says. "Only so much to talk about I guess. I'm going to see if we missed any cannons."

The day passes with light conversation and simple routines. We get a parachute full of meat with drinks but it's thinner quality than we're all used to. Another parachute comes down, one for Stritch and Woolia, but they choose not share it. An argument breaks out between Doug and Stritch but we manage to calm them down. After that the kid gets a package full of other types of meat with some kind of drink. Then Doug and I get a package full of fruit, dried and normal.

Then the cannon fires.

_17th, Oliver Oreton, District 12 Male, 14 years old, Heatstroke_

"How many was that?" Woolia asks.

"I…" Doug starts.

"Lost count too?" Flora asks.

"That's 10 cannons," Ambrose says. "Things are going slow aren't they?"

"It's what it is," Doug counters. "Not like we can really change it."

Flora and I look cautiously out the horizon as Doug continues staking the flames. These games are moving slow but I don't want to vocalize it. The gamemakers did sic the weird bird things on the dominant alliance two years ago. And they have a lot of weird things in store. Who knows what the gamemakers can do.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. The face we see in the sky is the District 12 boy. Not one of us recalls talking to him that much. Ambrose and I offer to go for the watch and Flora and Stritch do so as well.

We don't talk much. The face in the sky seems to have put down our mood for a bit. Flora and Stritch begin talking and he helps her fix her leg. "Have you ever broken a leg?" Flora asks.

"Broke a couple of bones in the factories," Stritch says. He grabs at his arm and awkwardly flexes it. "I still can't write with a graphite pencil. You'd think District 13 would make something better."

"Yeah you've definitely healed that over." Flora comments.

The two of them talk a lot through the night. I can't find anything to talk about with Ambrose so the two of us just sit on the ground and lie on each other.

I come close to sleeping but Ambrose and I manage to stay awake for a while. When the sun comes up Doug and Woolia decide to give up their spots in the shelter for us. Judging by the looks in Stritch and Flora's faces, it seems like they've been in the sun for a while, and they retreat under a tree in the oasis. "I'm getting kind of hungry, is it okay if I leave you for a bit?" Ambrose asks.

"Be my guest," I say tiredly. My eyes close and I feel him head out of the shelter.

I don't know how long I sleep. I don't know what I dream. The days are blending as one and my memories and the heat are melting into one. At one point I hear Glen and Cypress and Lilac. They're trapped in the arena, I think. I leap up and kick up sand around me. I cough the sand that comes into my mouth and join the kid in the water.

"There's not a lot of fish today," he says. "Where could they go?"

"Maybe the rocks have a secret drain in them. Or maybe the fish fly," I snort as I run the water over my hair and try to get the sand out.

"WEll the fish don't look like flying fish," the kid comments.

"Fish actually fly?"

"You'd have to go out pretty far from District 4 but I know a lot of sailors say that fish fly. I think I saw it once," the kid murmurs.

"Okay you're just pulling my leg."

"I swear I'm telling the truth," the kid defensively says. "If you're ever in District 4 then you should look it up!"

I hold my tongue as the kid continues searching for the fish. The only way I'd make it District 4 is if I make it to the end of the hunger games and live. And if I get out of the Hunger Games then I'd be one of those preening, celebrating, pompous dickwads who stand on stage celebrating their victories over the family they killed.

Not like I'm ever going to be in that scenario. The odds are still that I'm more than likely going to die in this Hunger Games.

After my brief bout with existential crisis I head to the campfire and sit next to Ambrose as he wipes the sweat from the brow. I rest my head on his shoulder as he pokes the pork on the grill. "Any update?"

"Nope," he grunts. "Bad dream?"

"I don't really know," I truthfully reply. I tightly hold his free hand as he continues flipping over the pork. It's a big slice for all of us that we're sure to split. A parachute comes down for all of us, just some utensils and napkins, and what looks to be some iodine. I guess funds are running low.

We eat the pork and sit quietly. As the days wear on I suppose it's only natural that we run out of things to talk about. It's not like we can talk about our favorite pieces of music or the recent gossip from our home districts. I really wish that the capitol would send at least something from our family. There's another small parachute with napkins and an apple. I guess the audience is getting to be very bored, or the costs are getting too high.

The day wears on and there are no cannons. Doug, Woolia, and the kid offer to keep watch. We talk Flora out of watching camp. Ambrose and I cuddle up to each other in one shelter when the sun disappears in the sky. He wraps his arms around me tightly and I do the same. "Nina," he starts.

"No," I say quietly. "I just want to experience it. Just ruminate."

"Okay," he says. I feel him press closer against me and he leans close to the crook of my neck. I feel his light kisses and a rush of heat flashes my stomach. The urge to bring him closer to me bubbles up and I roll over and bring my head to his chest. It's isn't home, but it's a damn great comfort.

I have a sweet dream of snow and warmth. The allies are there as we all decorate a tree. It's an old comfort that's lasted through District 7, but then we just sit and talk. The ground turns into sand and I begin to cough.

When I wake up Ambrose is pulling me to my feet and the two of us grab weapons. I hold my arm to my head and try to squint through this sand storm. I see the figures of our other alliance members as they flail about. The deranged caw of a weird bird makes me turn around and blindly swing my axe. The bird thing falls to the ground with a death cry.

The sand swirling around seems to die down just a little bit. I try to signal to Ambrose to kill any more of the weird bird things but then there's a bird cawing and a scream from one of our other allies. I push through the rest of the swarming sand and try to find one of our other allies. I'm met with a face full of sand and the body of a bird thing pushes up against me.

I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder as it digs its beak into my shoulder so I swing my axe back and it falls limp behind me. I blindly swing again, hitting bird and flesh. The horrid scream from a girl, either Woolia or Flora, echoes in the dust storm, and someone else lets out a scream of pain before the sandstorm finally dies.

"Is everyone okay?!" I hear Stritch call out. By the time I finally get my bearings I see that our oasis has shrunk to less than a quarter of its original size. Stritch comes out from behind a tree and he's grabbing his forearm.

Ambrose coughs from behind me and I hear him throw up some sand. "I'm good, I'm good," he stutters. He looks the best of us but even then he's got several scratches running down his chest. "Doug?"

I look around for my District partner and kick at the sand. Some of it flies up but I don't hear him calling out or anything. I walk over to Ambrose only to hear someone moan from under me. I look down and to my horror I see the severed arm of the kid. "FUCK!" I shout.

"What happened?" Worriedly Stritch runs over and I hold his hand out to prevent him from trampling the kid.

"Oh no," Ambrose moans. From my position I see him looking over what looks to be a corpse. It twitches a couple of times and only then I see the body as Flora. Her face is mangled and her ears are torn off. I hold back my vomit and look down, averting my gaze from the limp body of the kid.

"DId you hear any cannons?" Stritch nervously asks. Ambrose and I shake our heads and Stritch sighs. "For all we know we heard them during the storm." He raises his arms only to drop them in pain.

A gasp comes from the kid before I hear him begin to cry. I turn to Stritch and hold up my axe. "It has to be done," I say worriedly.

Wordlessly, Stritch nods. I catch Ambrose's eye just as Stritch hands me a more suitable blade, a sword. It's lighter and somewhat flimsier. He nods solemnly and kneels over Flora's twitching body. I hold the kid's head back slightly and dry his tears just a bit. I can't look at him as I run the blade through his throat.

_16th, Quezon Easter, District 4 Male, 12 years old, Throat slit by Nina Chestford (D7F)_

_15th, Flora Amaranth, District 9 Female, 16 years old, Smothered by Ambrose Caponthe (D9M)_

Two cannons fire.

Ambrose walks, well, stumbles to us, with a dissatisfied look on his face. "Never again," he whispers as he collapses into our arms.

Stritch guides him to the ground as he heaves a dry sob. I stroke his hair back in an effort to comfort him and keep watch. The white of the parachute contrasts against the sky. I make a leap to grab it. Inside are some bandages and some alcohol. It's probably going to sting. Another parachute comes down with a bit of water and some sunblock bottles.

I tear open some bandages and put it over my shoulder where the bird slammed into me. In hindsight I probably should have put some alcohol onto it. I toss the bottle to Stritch as he sniffs it. "Okay Ambrose, looks like we have something for you. Just lay down."

Reluctantly Ambrose does so. I caress his forehead while Stritch manages to find a leaf to lather the alcohol on. I grip Ambrose's forearms tightly. He screams the loudest of all of us. "I'm sorry," he says sheepishly. "I've never felt that kind of alcohol before."

"Is it a hot commodity in 9 or something?" Stritch raises his eyebrow.

"None of them are as good as the capitol, and they don't sting as much as this," he grumbles. I slap a bandage on his chest and pat his chest for safety. "Looks like you're still intact," I say, half flirtatiously.

"Thanks dear, now let's see what we lost," Ambrose says, gritting his teeth.

"Well we have to give our due to the dead." The three of us glance towards our fallen allies and come to the decision that we should move. It takes a while but we grab supplies from our camp and begin setting up another fire. Stritch kneels as we wait for the hovercraft to collect the bodies, not really knowing why, Ambrose and I join him. The claw drops down and scoops up sand with our allies.

After we watch them head into the sky Ambrose and Stritch wordlessly set up a new camp and recoup most of the supplies. Our new shelter is a more typical tent style, or rather lean to style. I take it on myself to sort out our remaining supplies. Either the hovercraft or the mutts have dug up the salt brine pork. Good.

Other than that I find some clothes, some weapons, and some drinks. It's not much but we have a lot to deal with. Ambrose still has his sword, I still have an axe, and Stritch still has his short sword. Long sword? I don't even know. I take it upon myself to set up the fire as it looks like Stritch and Ambrose relieve themselves. We're surprisingly candid this year.

Must be the heat.

At least we're all getting used to it, I'm hardly complaining about it.

The fire gets going and I put the pork onto the grill. That attracts the guys over. It's a quiet and rather bland lunch. As I finish up the last of the pork I look up to the sky with a look of puppy dog eyes. It's just instinctive to me.

I guess it works. A parachute comes down with some dry fruit, some fried crunchy skin, and some more salt. "How did the kid get the water not salted again?" I ask Ambrose.

"I think he had plastic and a cup and some water. If we had some plastic and a cup we can do that. Well, I guess tomorrow we can hunt for some fish, right?"

Stritch gives a noncommittal grunt and heads under the shelter to lie down. I turn to Ambrose and lean my head on his shoulder. "It was rough?"

He closes his eyes and nods. "I didn't want to be like Remus, but she was spasming. There's still so many and yet so little of us left in the games."

"The three of us should stick together then?" I ask.

"Yeah." I feel him lock my hand in his. I turn to him tiredly and look into his eyes. "I'm grateful to have you as my last girlfriend."

"In another life we shall marry and have babies, but right now, I'm just glad i get to look at your hot as fuck face." The two of us share a small smile and a long kiss before we take a glance at Stritch, who has fallen asleep. "Maybe we'll have Stritch as a handsome neighbor and he'll have a daughter to date our kids."

"Or swing?" Ambrose sheepishly asks.

"I don't know what they do in District 9 but in District 7 swings are things that you put on trees, so yeah, we can do that."

It's been an exhausting day. Soon enough the day turns into night. The kid and Flora are the only faces in the sky. "How many are left?" Stritch asks just as the anthem disappears.

"Beats me, I think 14? 12?"

"A lot of us left," Ambrose comments. "Stritch can you take the night shift?"

He grunts and sits at the fire. We hear him whisper Woolia and Doug's name briefly before Ambrose and I curl up in the shelter.

I dream tonight but I forget it by morning. Stritch tells us that there are no cannons so far. I join him in the water and hunt for some fish. I really don't know what I'm looking for but Stritch comes up with a good size fish. He sends it over to Ambrose and we get it prepped for the rest of the days.

There are no faces in the sky.

I take watch and Ambrose and Stritch seem to cuddle under the shelter. I don't mind.

The next day goes by quickly. There are no faces, no cannons, no mutts, but a dust storm does appear in the distance, with some kind of spark out there. Ambrose and STritch hold the fort down as I head to the source. There's nothing and every step I make towards it the dust storm seems to shy away.

Ambrose stays up tonight. Stritch and I don't have much conversation and sleep on opposite sides of the shelter. I have the first nightmare in a while. It's not much but I do dream of drowning in sand.

Three days after the mutt attack Ambrose and I head in the water to look for some food. He lays on his back and looks over his shoulder. I follow his gaze and hastily call Stritch over. The dominant alliance, some of the people who treat the Hunger Games like a career, are just beyond the trees. "We should take them out," I hastily whisper.

"District 1," Stritch points to the blond duo trailing behind them. They look rather sunburnt and tired. They peer through the bushes as their allies from the other career districts move onward. "Ambrose, you take the girl I take the guy?"

"Whatever happens happens. Nina, make sure the others aren't on our heels," Ambrose directs.

We head out of the water and weave through the trees. I still my breath and tail the three other tributes. I make a hand gesture to Ambrose and Stritch but then a knife whizzes by my head. I duck behind a tree with my axe in hand. "Fuck!" I hear a girl scream. I swing my axe where I think her head should be and miss. Luckily I recover just in time to avoid taking another knife out my head. I scoop up some sand and throw it into her face. She runs off into one of her allies, who carries her away.

Behind me I hear Ambrose and Stritch in a heated battle with the tributes from District 1. The boy from District 2 almost chops off Ambrose's arm when I throw one of the knives that his ally left behind. It lands into his leg and he sees me wielding the axe. "Let's go Bronze!" he yells before he springs off.

Bronze, the boy, turns around and it's a fatal mistake. Stritch buries his sword into his head and he runs around like a chicken who lost his head.

_14th, Bronze, District 1 Male, 17 years old, stabbed by Stritch Towsley_

I push Stritch to the ground as the girl throws a knife where his head once was. She pulls up a giant dagger and tries to land it where Stritch and I once laid. We roll away and the girl chases hastily after us. She's about to land it on my leg when Ambrose slits her throat. She falls to the ground with her hand over her throat. To finish her off Ambrose plants her dagger in her head.

_13th, Amira Lush, District 1 Female, 18 years old, Stabbed by Ambrose Caponthe_

"You okay?" he asks, heaving over. He flexes his arm awkwardly and lets out a hiss of pain. "Come up you two. I don't see anyone else in sight. The cannons are fired."

Breathing deeply STritch climbs to his feet desperately. Ambrose hoists him onto his good shoulder and I help stabilize him from the front. Our ally seems to have gotten cut in the front and the back of his legs. With our alcohol we clean his wound away from the sand and set up something to let the blood drip just a little bit. After we're sure he's cleaned some 15 minutes later, Ambrose and I head into the water to clean ourselves up.

"You okay?" I ask Ambrose as he sits on the edge of the water.

"It's not getting any easier." His shoulders drop and I rest my hands on his knees. "Not just because of the injuries. How are you holding up?"

"As good as I can. I can see why the inner district tributes head into alliances, it keeps us sane for a while."

"Do you think they're even half as close as us?"

"Probably not, considering that two of their members just died. I'd like to think the three of us got the other three pretty good. Thanks for fending off the others."

"I couldn't have done it without you. Or Stritch." I head out of the water and lean on his shoulder and wrap my hands in his. "But mostly you. Final two?"

I feel him tense rather quickly. Just as swiftly, he wraps his arm around me and I feel his breathing slow to a calming pace. "Of course. I think we shared enough."

As the day goes on, Stritch joins us for a waterside hunt and talk. Nothing important transpires but I know that the battlefields have been drawn, at least until the final 2. Assuming we all last that long. The faces of the tributes from District 1 appear in the sky as we eat a paltry meal of rather bony fish. "How are you feeling, Stritch?" Ambrose asks as the faces disappear.

"Alright, can't really watch tonight like I wanted. Do you or Nina want to take over?"

"I got it," I say. "I'm best off out of the three of us since I didn't get much combat today."

It seems to go over well with the other two. Stritch awkwardly shuffles to his feet and heads to the tented shelter. Ambrose stands up and stretches before hugging me tightly. "If you need to swap tonight. All you need to do is tell me," he says.

I hug him back.

The night is uneventful and I stay awake for the most part. I do drift off dangerously close to the fire but once I feel the heat barreling down my face I roll away without much problem. The night slowly brightens up just as I begin to think about my family back home. I hope they know that I still want to go home. It's just… As much as…

Whatever happens, happens, right?

To my own surprise I'm awake until the sun is at the highest in the sky. By then both Ambrose and Stritch have woken up. Stritch cleans himself in the water and strips down to his bare essentials. "Really hard for any of us to look pretty, but I 'd say Stritch is pretty decent considering how some of the guys go," Ambrose comments rather wryly.

"He's not prettier than me, is he?"

"Not, at, all," he emphasizes. We munch on an apple that comes down from a parachute. "Good to see that we still have some funds. Thank you Capitol."

The sarcasm in his voice is untraceable and it actually brings down some more fruit. Some are full and moist while others are dry. I take a bite out of a banana and munch aimlessly.

I don't notice when the cannon fires.

_12th, Woolia Chenile, District 8 Female, 14 years old, Heat Stroke_

"Who do you think it was?" I ask Ambrose.

"Hope they died peacefully, whoever it was. Unless it was one of those careers."

"They want to make a game out of this? We'll have to show them that we can take this shit seriously," Stritch determinedly says.

The three of us sit around the water's edge and munch on some food from the parachutes. The day isn't that hot, or maybe we're all getting used to it, The cold water that comes from a parachute helps.

When day turns into night we turn to the sky for the sole death of the day. Woolia's glassy eyes somehow seem to reflect the endless desert in front of all of us. I interacted with her and Flora the least of our alliance, she was much younger than all of us and had things that we couldn't relate to. She disappears and Stritch lets out a dry sob. "You and Nina head to bed tonight," Ambrose directs.

Stritch and I stumble off to bed. I hope Woolia didn't die harshly.

She doesn't die well in my dreams. I hear her screams as she drowns in the sand. I manage to dig enough of her out to reveal her crying, crying head. Her eyes open and they're blood red.

I wake up screaming.

Ambrose is by my side holding me tightly when I wake up. I put my head close to his chest and he curls my hair reassuringly. He doesn't need to say anything but his actions are much louder. When the cannon fires I pull myself even closer.

_11th, Doug Shelby, District 7 Male, 16 years old, choked by Chironja Kinder (D11M)_

"At least things are going faster," Ambrose says wistfully. "Come on, let's get some food in you."

Food today is a bit of pork and a celery stick that comes down in a parachute. My escort was never one for words, but today Wilhelmus sends a small note. " _Doug's gone, stick to it girl."_ His drawing of a tree has Doug's name on it with a heart.

If Doug is really gone…

My shoulders slump and I head into the water to wade for a bit. I can't help but see both Ambrose and Stritch watch me from the sidelines. "I'm fine," I shout.

"Your food's getting sandy," Stritch notes. "You okay?"

"As… well… I could be better as you know," I stammer. "I'm not going anywhere just yet."

"Do you think you could get us some fish or something? You can have my pork," Ambrose speaks up. I nod wearily and dive headfirst in the water. I reemerge with two fish in hand that I try my best to clean. It's not perfect but I honestly don't think that Ambrose nor Stritch can do any better.

The rest of the day is spent waiting for the roll call to come. As the day turns into night, Doug's relatively relaxed face appears in the sky. "Was that why you left your pork untouched?"

"Yeah," I mumble. I rest my head on Ambrose's shoulder, feeling some of his bone beginning to pop out, but he still feels strong and hale. Most importantly he feels comfortable.

"Well," Stritch says, clearing his throat. "Since Nina, well, you umm, lost your partner tonight, you and Ambrose can head to sleep."

Ambrose wraps his arm around my waist as we walk to the shelter. "Were you and Doug close?" he asks once we finally sit down.

"He wasn't much," I say softly. "He lived closer to the Misery River and I lived closer to town. Still, he and I did connect through training, and through the pre games. District loyalty and all that. Like you and Flora."

"Oh, Flora and I didn't get along," he says simply. "At least I don't think we did, she never told me anything bad but she never told me anything good."

"But Doug," I start. "He was always overlooked in his family, seven boys and 3 girls if you can believe that. And he was in the middle. He told me a lot that last night before this hellhole."

"He was good with the kid. He was strong too, I hope his family was proud."

"If they weren't and I make it out of here, I'll make them be proud." Ambrose wraps his arms around me and I seem to melt into his body.

I dream of Doug that night, dream of him and Woolia emerging from the sand with blood from their eyes, sand out their mouth, a scream from both of their ears. They're taken away by the weird bug mutts and drop into the oasis.

I wake up and find myself clinging to Ambrose as he does the same. His muscles are still hard and rather full but his skin is darker and I can see some blisters. He's still handsome though, I like that about him, handsome and protective.

I run my hand through his curly hair and gently pry my arms away from him. Gingerly I remove his arms from my body before I dive into the water. In my search for some fish I find a rusted blade and a rather big rock. Where did they even come from?

I head out of the water with the blade and some fish. "You head off," I say to Stritch. He looks up from the fire with rather red eyes. "Yeesh, you should probably take the day to rest. Ambrose and I will keep watch." I pat him on his shoulder as he wordlessly heads off to the shelter. The rusted blade isn't a blade I recognize, it must belong to the careers or someone else.

I don't think it's right for me to dwell on this.

Ambrose wakes up shortly after and sits next to me. He and I strip the fish of its bones and divide it for the three of us. I look over at Stritch and begin thinking. Ambrose and I are going to have to kill him soon. I hope not too soon. "You're thinking about it too," Ambrose says in between bites of fish.

"I still think it'd be better if we stick together. The others still outnumber the three of us."

"I don't know if I can even kill him even when we are the majority. But that means we all have to live until the top 5. That means we have to outlast… how many more?"

"Five… at least I think." The numbers swirl in my head and I grip my temples. "The heat is really draining me. I'm going back in the water."

"I'll see if I can keep some fish cooking for Stritch." I plant a kiss on his cheek before heading up.

The rest of the day is inconsequential. I get myself clean and Ambrose joins me after Stritch wakes up. The three of us idly converse about… really nothing important. Then the nightly anthem plays and the three of us all decide to head to sleep. The shelter is barely big enough for us all but we make do.

I don't dream that night.

The three of us wake up to the sound of a cannon.

_10th, Niko Watterson Sousa, District 5 Male, 15 years old, throat slit by Dominic Adirondack (D2M)_

"WHo do you think it was?" Stritch asks. "Can't be Woolia, or Doug, or Flora, or that kid."

"It's not the girl from District 3 based on what you said when you first joined us. We got rid of the two from District One." I twiddle my fingers awkwardly as I flit back and forth between Stritch and Ambrose.

"So it's not 9, 8, or 7. I hope it's the boy from 2 or the girl from District 4 they were tough," Ambrose says. There's a sense of dread over all of us as Ambrose lies down. "Just let it end, please…"

A dust storm picks up, restricting us all into the shelter. I close my eyes and wrap my hands over my mouth tightly, ensuring that no sand goes into my mouth. It lasts for almost forever. By the time it ends the oasis has little of its remaining water and the fish are out in the open. "Are you guys in the mood for walking?" I turn to the others with a blunt look on my face.

"Not today at least. Do you think the fish is still good?" Stritch and I look at the fish flopping on the now dry oasis bed.

"Not likely. Let's see what supplies we're able to get," STritch says.

"So, move tomorrow then?"

That's something we can all agree on. Neither of us are particularly in the mood for eating but we do have to nibble on some of the cleaner fish. The rest of the day is us recounting our supplies and dividing it up. We were able to keep the canister we were using for our pork, which smells but is still usable. In the mess of things I accidentally prick my finger on the rusted blade I fished out a while ago. Luckily we're able to find our bandages and get me covered up. I still might need a tetanus booster.

Or a fucking coffin, but I won't die to some little rust.

"We'll stay here tonight, all three of us," Stritch decides.

"Good to know," Ambrose says.

"I'll keep watch. I don't want you guys to be tired tomorrow when we walk. And you guys can always carry me."

"What makes you say that?" Stritch looks at my body with a half bemused, half annoyed glance.

"I'm lighter than the two of you and I did have long nights back home."

"In that case I can stay up," Stritch says. "You don't know how long I had to stay awake in District 8, and I remember, Nina, you had the most watch hours."

"Guys," Ambrose interjects. He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. It's oddly reassuring. He gestures to the sky and the face there is of the District 5 boy, the redhead, who neither of us really knew anything about. "Let's just all sleep tonight, we're wasting energy by arguing. Hopefully we find another oasis thing."

Stritch and I take a deep breath and lie down on opposite sides of the shelter. We're going to have to take this down tomorrow but right now it remains up. Ambrose hugs me from the back while I try to sleep. "We still have to trust him," he whispers.

"I know that. That's why I wanted to stay watch. Just to keep him from."

"Just fake sleeping then." I feel his face pressed up against my neck as he says that. Leave it to him to say the obvious solution. I feel him brush up against me. "Between you and me I don't think we can last, the three of us."

I push back slowly against Ambrose, grinding my hips against his, and let out a murmur of relief. He may be staying up all night, but I'm not. I'm content with him.

The dream I have that night is surprisingly pleasant, at least I remember it being pleasant. I don't wake up with much of a memory of that dream, but I know it included Ambrose. I roll over ever so slightly to see him smiling just a little bit. It's tiny things like that that help brighten up this arena. Not that it needs it.

I look out into where the oasis once was. Most of the trees are not green anymore, they're brown, and I can feel the dryness from here. I look at the trees supporting our shelter. It's subtle but you can tell that the shelter is sagging and every District 7 citizen knows the sound of a tree about to fall. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" I shout, pulling Stritch and Ambrose out of the shelter.

The four trees holding up the tarp collapse in on each other. They send sand spiraling through the air and into our eyes and mouths. Stritch coughs as he takes an uneasy step forward. He pushes a dead trunk away from the center of the pile and tries pulling the tarp. Ambrose and I join him, but that only succeeds in tearing the tarp in half. On the bright side we're all able to grab our shit from the tent.

"Okay," Stritch says with a frustrated sigh. "Thanks for warning us Nina. I guess all those trees falling down had something to help you with that, huh?"

"Could do without the sarcasm but thanks." Ambrose kicks over some of the fallen trees and digs up our bags. He's able to pull out three of them without our help but the rest of the tarp obscures some of our weapons. "I'll get it."

Somehow my axe is not covered under the debris from the collapsing trees. I'm able to wriggle it out from the trunks and chop up the trunks. Stritch and Ambrose pull out knives and their swords but the rest of our food is stuck under the bigger trunks. "If we needed any bigger shit of an excuse, I think we'd be dead," I muse.

"Which way?" Stritch asks.

Ambrose and I look at each other with a shrug and point off in different directions. I change my hand position to follow his and the three of us head off. The heat bears down on Stritch the most, he lags behind me, but I lag behind Ambrose by a significant amount. The sun is at its highest in the sky when I look back and see Stritch crawling. "Hold up!"

Ambrose turns around as I hoist Stritch onto my shoulders. "There's an oasis just beyond this dune, let's get him in the water quickly!" He grabs him by the legs and I continue hoisting him on my shoulders.

I'm aware of Stritch drooling over me just as we make it over the dune. Ambrose and I drop Stritch on the ground and he makes a break to the water, crawling as he dumps his head in. Ambrose leans over and smells the water. "Huh, it's fresh."

I'm half tempted to lean over and take a big swig before Stritch comes up, coughing and sneezing. Some of his snot falls into the water. At that point we get a package full of iodine and some full water bottles. There's no food but in the water I see some fish. It's not as big as an oasis as before but there are some small stumps. Someone must have been here. And they didn't cut down the trees the best they could have. And rather inconsistently since there are some trees still alive and growing. We tie up our tarp as some kind of

From the wreckage we're able to get a fire going and that's the extent of our fire starting. We purify the water and chill in the water for just a little bit. The rest of the day passes without either of us taking a bite to eat. I choose to take watch and Stritch decides to head to sleep quickly. Ambrose stays up with me for a long while. I rest my head on his shoulders. There's no need for talking.

I stifle out a yawn and he kisses me. It's weird, I never expected to fall in love, but at this point, I guess it's now or never. I pat him on the shoulder and send him off to our shelter.

As I wait in front of the fire I fight to keep the tears in. I really love Ambrose, I really do, but I love living more. I hate having to make this decision, but at least there are odds that I won't have to kill him.

The night turns into day and nothing of note happens. Ambrose joins me for a little nap in the morning as Stritch makes some food for us. We don't have any reason not to trust him just yet.

A cannon fires late in the afternoon just as Ambrose and I wake up.

_9th, Darren Willoughby, District 13 Male, 15 years old, Heat Stroke_

"Someone bit it," Stritch says succinctly.

"I hope it's one of those careers," Ambrose says.

"Well we can think about who it was later. For now, let's just eat." I force myself to take a bite of some of the fish Stritch cleaned. The three of us have a pleasant conversation today since there's fuck all to do. We come to an agreement that we split at the final 6 if all of us are alive when that comes. Stritch agrees to leave first and then Ambrose and I will split.

Stritch heads off to wash himself and I turn to Ambrose. "I'm not splitting," I whisper.

He gives me a sullen nod and hugs me around the shoulders. The hug doesn't really last long but it's all the comfort I need for the day. I watch appreciatively as Ambrose strips to his essentials and hops in the fresh water with Stritch.

I join the boys in washing up a bit later. We spend the rest of the day in the water and it's almost fun. Just as the sun begins to set the three of us head out of the water and rest on the sand. We don't really talk much. The face in the sky is that of the district 13 boy. He approached all six of us with his partner for an alliance, but at that point we were getting kind of bloated. I can't even remember his name.

"Darren was a nice kid," Stritch laments. "So who wants to watch tonight?"

"I'll do it," Ambrose speaks up. Stritch nods quietly and walks off to the shelter. Ambrose and I pass a glance at each other and nod. I give him a goodnight kiss and lie down in the shelter. He's gonna have to take care of me, right?

Fuck knows, but I'll die loving or I'll live logning him. We just need to outlast Stritch.

I dream of Stritch interrupting me and Ambrose as we have a romantic dinner. Stritch and Ambrose fight over the corpses of our alliance members and I try to help but Doug rises from the dead and slits my throat. I cough up blood as Ambrose is thrown in front of my feet. The two of us are immobilized when I finally wake up.

It's bright, brighter than usual. I stay in the shade with my knees up to my chest. I don't know how dreams can do it but I'm fucking exhausted. Ambrose is in the water, bathing, and if I may add, giving me and Stritch quite a show. It's a good comfort. He's always a good comfort.

When the sun gets a little lower in the sky I grab a bite of some cleaned fish next to the fire. It's not much of a meal and I make sure to save enough for Ambrose and Stritch. I'd rather save the fish for Ambrose not Stritch, but we still have to trust him for a little more. After I finish my fish I head in the water and wash off, filling up a bottle while I do so.

The day is boring, there are no deaths, there are no mutt attacks, and there is nothing worth talking about. Stritch decides to watch over me and Ambrose while we sleep. Though wary, Ambrose and I accept it and curl up in the shelter. "I think we can only last 2 days more," Ambrose whispers.

I nod wordlessly and bury my head into the crook of his neck. I let out a murmur of contentment and feel his hand on the back of my neck, reassuring me tightly. He's still the same Ambrose, but there's a stiffness that doesn't entirely go away when we hug. He's right though, we can only last for so long, unless the gamemakers would allow us to have babies and a happy go lucky life.

Fat fucking chance of that happening.

I don't know when I fall asleep but I wake up significantly rested. I look around in the shelter and see that Ambrose is nowhere to be seen. I sit up, alert, and only now realize that the arena is significantly colder. I head out of the shelter, ax in hand, looking for my allies.

It takes way too long to hear the sounds of combat.

"To the left!" I hear an unfamiliar boy shout.

There's sounds of someone shuffling and a girl screeching. Who the hell?!

"Stritch duck!" I hear Ambrose shout. I whip my head around and see why our ally ducked in the first place.

The spear misses my ear by mere inches. A girl pushes past Stritch and knocks him into the ground and charges at me.

I sidestep her glancing blow just enough to knock her on her shoulder. She stumbles down and I swing my axe into her back. I wrench it out of her and she makes a dive for her spear. She stands up just in time to get my axe blade to her cheek.

She swings her spear into my arm but I'm still able to swing my axe. She backs up just in time. She kicks me in the stomach and slashes her spear into my stomach. Before she can react I swing my axe into her head, finally killing her.

_8th, Reyker Toire, District 4 Female, 16 years old, Axed by Nina Chestford (D7F)_

Pushing the girl off of my axe I run to Ambrose. Stritch struggles to get to his feet but the other tribute isn't focused on him. Ambrose is fighting a losing battle.

I push Ambrose to the side and get a sword in my shoulder as punishment. The boy grunts and hoists his hand up. I push his sword away and Ambrose wrestles him to the ground. I grip my shoulder as he and Ambrose scuffle.

For a brief moment it looks like Ambrose is going to die. For a longer moment the life quivers in Ambrose's eyes.

The boy rolls on top of him and throttles him.

I slam my axe.

His head splits.

_7th, Dominic Adirondack, District 2 Male, 16 years old, Axed by Nina Chestford (D7F)_

I look at Stritch as he slowly climbs to his feet. He glares at Ambrose with a curled lip. The two cannons fire. "You guys okay?"

They look at me with heaving breaths. Our hovercraft can't be that far away. "The girl didn't have anything on her worth it," Ambrose says when he walks to the boy. "District 2. The girl must have been from District 4. Looks like we beat the careers."

"Good riddance." Stritch kicks some sand over the District 2 boy before he winces, grabbing his leg as blood trickles down. "Let's hope this fucker has something good for us."

Stritch and Ambrose roll the boy over and lift up a hefty backpack off of him. We head back to camp as we feel a breeze behind us. It must be the hovercraft. It doesn't create that big of a storm but it still inconveniences us. The three of us collapse in our shelter. Ambrose coughs.

We tear open the career's pack and out tumbles bandages, alcohol, water bottles, and dried fruit. "Well now we have enough bags to split among the three of us," Stritch says.

Ambrose and I share a glance. I nod preemptively and Ambrose seems to tense. _As if,_ Ambrose mouths to me. It seems like Stritch doesn't notice but there's a newly crafted piece of tension.

Three parachutes come down, each about the same size. I open mine to see a gallon of water, some dried fruit, some dried meat, some crackers, and a warm loaf of bread soup. Under the gallon of water there are enough bandages and gauze to last for a while. There's also a wet towel.

"I take it we're keeping these to ourselves," Ambrose speaks up.

"Seems like it," Stritch agrees. "Is it okay if I just stay in this general vicinity until night? I'm willing to bet that more than a couple of tributes died to the heat."

"Sure, but don't expect us to heal you or anything," Ambrose says. "Maybe in another life."

"Same to you," Stritch mumbles. The three of us spend the rest of the day patching each other up. In spite of us not expecting any help, we still take the few bandages from the shared supplies and nibble on what little food we're willing to reveal.

Night comes and confirms that the faces in the sky are the District 2 boy and the District 4 girl. I think their names were Dom and Rika or something like that. I killed both from District 4, the kid after the mutt attack and the girl in today's assault. "I'll head off now," Stritch announces just as the anthem finishes up. Ambrose and I watch him leave with his backpack, sponsor canister, and some weapons. He doesn't make an effort to return to us and he disappears in the night.

I turn to Ambrose tiredly and plant a kiss on his lips. "Now that he's gone," I breathlessly say. "I need to tell you. I love you." He both grows stiff and relaxes when I curl closer to him. "There are only 6 of us left here. We made it this far but in case I die, I needed to tell you."

Breathing heavily I run a hand through his curled, scraggy, sandy hair as I press into his mouth. We kiss for a long time before he breaks off from me. "I...I know," he says, breathing heavily. "If...Do you... "

I stick my hand down his shorts and begin stroking. "Yes," I say.

I lose myself in his eyes, his body, his charm, all through the night. His body is sturdy, broad, fucking gorgeous. There's no part of him I leave untouched by my lips, no part of mine that I hide from him as we spend the night flipping back and forth. I lose all of myself to him and I don't care who sees.

My dreams that night are full of a happy home in District 7, an excitable population in District 9, and the scandals of the Capitol. The other victors may be fucking prudes but I just want to spend what I can with him.

And if I'm unlucky the time I get to spend with him is the rest of my life.

I wake up to see him in the oasis, bathing and cleaning his little sword. I splash in the water next to him and we talk for a long while. The day is enchanting and would be positively romantic if it weren't for the fact that we were still in this hellhole of an arena. A part of me wishes that they'd fire the gamemaker who pushed for a desert arena, but at least I'm getting a more even tan.

We have a meal of dried meat and crackers and wash it down with fresh water.

The two of us are kissing again when we hear a splash in the distance. A girl lands in the water and looks to be swimming, rather tiredly, and she takes some of the fresh water into her mouth. As fresh as it may be, it's probably not healthy for her. Ambrose breaks from the kiss and grabs his sword. I follow closely behind as we slowly creep up on the girl.

In one fluid motion Ambrose both drags the girl out of the water by the hair and easily subdues her. He straddles her as she screams for mercy and stabs her in the head.

_6th, Li'Conda Netrino, District 13 Female, 17 years old, Stabbed by Ambrose Caponthe (D9M)_

Breathing heavily, he runs to me. We hug for a while. There's not much more that needs to be said today.

Her face is in the sky that night. It's the District 13 girl. "What was her name?" I ask.

"I..can't answer that," he says sadly. "She deserved better."

I curl up close to him around our fire and we sit. "We all do."

He gets up to stretch before he collapses in the tent. "You coming?" he asks.

"In a bit," I reply. I hold my hand over the fire and feel its warmth travel up and down my arm. I need to make it home, Ambrose or no Ambrose. I'm not going to fight him if I can help it, but he's not going to fight me either. At the very least I hope all of this is true.

I lie next to him in our rudimentary shelter and hold him tightly. "Nina," he says. "I...I.."

"I love you too." I press against his side and for a moment all seems right as we both fall asleep.

I don't dream that night, but Ambrose does wake me up when he clenches tightly around me. "Edith," he mumbles. Must be one of his siblings. I stay awake for the rest of the night. The shapes of Glen, Cypress, and Lilac all materialize out of the fire and move into the darkness. I hold my hand out after them but they continue to disappear.

A couple of hours later, Ambrose wakes up, wrapping his arms around me. "You look like you've been up for a while."

"I can keep going. I don't think I'll get a good night's sleep for a while."

"You and me both," Ambrose protectively says. He opens his canister and brings out some dried meat. He wraps it around a cracker and pops one in my mouth, doing the same for himself not too long after.

The rest of the day doesn't have much in store. We spend some time in the water searching for fish but there are hardly any. There are weird plant things that weren't there before but they're harmless. Admittedly we spend too much time in the water but it's only because there's little else to do.

At night we share some more of our meat and some more of our crackers. The nightly anthem begins to play and it appears as though there won't be any faces.

While the anthem plays Ambrose and I hear someone stumble on sand. Cautiously, I grab my axe and find a girl struggling to get up. She holds a sword that she can barely lift and limps up. Somehow the girl garners enough strength to swing into my shoulder.

I recover in time to see her running towards me but I swing my axe into her head. In between her death twitches I pull my axe out of her head and head to Ambrose. He keeps his eyes glued to the sky as the anthem seems to hiccup for lack of a better term.

_5th, Indigo Kavelka, District 12 Female, 16 years old, Axed by Nina Chestford (D12F)_

"Looks like you got District 12," Ambrose says.

"How'd you know that?"

"The anthem said so, didn't you see it?"

"I was too busy focusing on my bleeding," I say bluntly. "Didn't mean for that to come out so harsh, sorry."

He pulls me closer in our shelter as we stare into our meager fire. "There's only four of us left," Ambrose says. "No matter what-"

"I love you," the two of us say at the same time. I look into his weary, worn, wrinkled, baggy eyes, and pull his face close to mine. The two of us bump foreheads and bring our noses together. Breathing heavily, he and I lock lips, pushing against each other and collapsing in the sand.

That night we are a tangle of limbs in the darkness around each other, over the sand, and under our tarp. No matter what I want to keep my hands off of him and feel the warmth of his embrace. They could be filming us but what are they going to do, kill us? He's perfect, I love him, and so long as we can help it, this moment will never end.

In the heat of the moment I find myself on my back and begging him for release. He screams my name in a shout of passion and spills over me. I tighten myself around him and hug him tightly and the two of us pull our lower body wear on. I hold Ambrose's face as I stare into his eyes yet again. He gives me a small smile and in the moment, I forget that one of us has to die before the other can live.

At that point, I don't know if it's worth living.

Ambrose and I wake up to the sounds of a human scream. It feels like it's been so long since we've encountered another tribute that I don't entirely know what to make of it. I hold my axe and charge into the desert, Ambrose at my heels.

We climb over the dune that borders our oasis to see Stritch fending off blows desparately against the boy from District 11. "Wait," I say as Ambrose heads down the dune.

He doesn't hear me, of course he doesn't.

Stritch looks behind him to see the two of us on the dune. Ambrose tries to pull Stritch away but the District 11 boy, who is still massive but rather bad for wear, throws him behind. I roll down the dune and grab my axe. The massive boy looks at me for a brief second, getting a stab to his back in the process, but he turns around and cuts Stritch to the point where he falls to the ground, bleeding endlessly.

I rush up to Ambrose and hold him steady. He looks at me with a look of fear and a look of blood in his eyes. I spare a glance towards Stritch before he finally dies. The cannon fires and Stritch goes limp.

_4th, Stritch Towsley, District 8 Male, 17 years old, Blood Loss from fight with Chironja Kinder (D11M)_

"Aw crap," Ambrose says as he hoists his sword up.

"Take him from behind and I'll try to take him from the front," I tell Ambrose. The two of us charge at him.

I try swinging my axe but he drops his weapon and tackles Ambrose to the ground. I try pulling him off of Ambrose and let go of my axe. I'm able to get Ambrose to his feet and he turns around and charges at Chironja.

The brawl is messy and short. It ends when Chironja picks up his short sword and swings.

_3rd, Ambrose Caponthe, District 9 Male, 18 years old, Decapitated by Chironja Kinder (D11M)_

When I see Ambrose's head roll to the ground a flood of anger rushes to my head. I hold my axe tighter and run up to the massive District 11 boy. He holds his sword up and blocks my first swing and punches me in the stomach. I let out a war cry before I swing the axe, cutting him in his bicep just as he stabs me in the side.

Biting back tears and blood I swing my axe again. The force of our hit is sure to make sparks fly. I land another blow on his left hand and it falls off. He stabs me in the shoulder and I grab at it with my non dominant hand to stifle the bleeding.

With one last scream I swing the axe into his head. His blood splatters over me and I scream to the sky.

_2nd, Chironja Kinder, District 11 Male, 18 years old, Axed by Nina Chestford (D7M)_

I stumble away from his body.

The trumpets sound. They say something about Nina Chestford- whoever-wait- She's me!- has won the hunger games.

The hovercraft drops its ladder and claw combination.

It leaves half of me behind.

A blast of cool air welcomes me.

* * *

_Nina's victory was lauded by the capitol in high regards. After her brutal final with Stritch and Chironja, she was in the infirmary for 3 days, during which she was visited by the previous victors. Coming after Geryon, and being the first girl to come out after Paisley, she was seen as a favorite victor for many years._

_However, her status as a favorite would eventually cause undue strife on her family. During her victory tour she was visited by President Homer Del Ave and the CEO of the Ripae dum Capitol, Sibinus Deonth. It is now understood that this meeting established the victor's prostitution ring that would plague many of the desirable victors for the rest of the Hunger Games. Nina initially denied participating, but three months later, after discovering her younger brother dead due to a 'lumber accident' she had no choice but to participate._

_On her victory tour she was poorly received in District 11 and was a divisive figure in District 9. During her visit to District 4 she learned that Leon Tarn, victor of the 4th Hunger Games, was forced into the prostitution right. He never held her decision to start the victor's prostitution ring against her, while Duke of the 2nd Hunger Games did to a small extent. She grew to be rather close friends with Leon and both were in attendance of each other's weddings._

_Nina was a well liked figure in District 7 but she would struggle to bring home a fellow female victor. She took up a hobby in origami and became a covert rebel, scattering her 'failed' paper cranes to contacts in the out districts. Nina became known in her district for her vulgarity and rather blunt but hilarious deposition._

_Nina would marry a similarly vulgar lumberjack from District 7 the year of the 12th Hunger Games. She would have four children, three daughters and one son, and see one of them into a future hunger games. They would not make it out of the arena. Nina Chestford died of influenza the year of the 73rd hunger Games at the age of 84._


	11. Iron Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Seventh Annual Hunger Games

_**HUNGER GAMES 07: Leaves of Iron** _

_**Name: Fjord Niemen** _

_**District: 04** _

_Age: 18_

Directed by Briar Hess (District 7)

* * *

With Nina's victory fresh on the minds of the general populace of the nation, serious betters and citizens began to see the viability of women in the Hunger Games. Nina's popularity surged immediately after her games. This continued a trend there the most recent victors were the most popular ones. Unfortunately for Nina, she would be popular for a very long while.

Because of Nina's victory, District 7 had a boost to the economy, causing a watershed of new inns and taverns to open. The lumberjacks would experience a noted boost in morale and health that would carry until 3 years before its next victor. Yet the effects of Nina's victory on other districts were minimal at best and nonexistent at worst. Very few Districts found usage in the influx of paper that came from District 7 and wood continued to be shipped to other districts in high quantities at the same prices.

As Panem learned, the Hunger Games would always be there to dampen the mood.

The usual suspects, Districts 1, 2, and 4 provided strong tributes. It was clear that many individual training efforts were sprouting up as a result of the motivation experienced from their previous victors. District 1 presented 2 blonds, District 2 produced a hulking boy and a rather limber girl, and District 4 provided a functional but handsome orphan alongside a rough and tumble crab fisherman.

In an unusual show, later historians would discover that the boy from District 3 and the boy from District 11 were distant cousins. If either tribute was aware of this, they never brought it up in conversation. Districts 5 seemed to follow its trend of being forgettable in the Hunger Games while District 6 did little favors by reaping 2 teens addicted to morphling.

District 7, fresh off of success from the previous year, provided 2 rather worthy tributes who were clear contenders for the crown. The boy stood on par with his counterpart in District 2 and the girl seemed to have a bit of an edge to her immediately. Bettors saw the girl from District 8 as a standout. This perpetuated the view that the middle district girls were something to look out for. District 9's girl seemed much stronger than her age would have suggested. Another aspect of District 9's reaping was that both tributes were cousins, making this the first year where 2 sets of relatives were reaped.

The lower Districts provided respectable, but not great, standouts. There were points where the District 10 boy seemed to space out and he seemed unfocused. The girls from 10 and 11 were rather weak kids who took too much tesserae to be safe. The tributes from District 12 somehow stood the highest among their peers from the lower districts. District 13 provided a relative upset but the bettors claimed that despite this, District 13 still had a fire of passion lit beneath their asses and could take part as well as any other district.

Most other proceedings went well. Many regarded the chariots as good but nothing special. Positive standouts included the girl from District 2, the tributes from District 4, the boy from District 10, and the girl from District 12. They dressed, respectively, to represent a blade, in a matching suit to represent the continuous flow of water, a bull, and an elegant flower.

Negative standouts came from District 1, District 3, District 5's boy, and District 11's girl. Both tributes from 1 were clad in jewel covered spandex suits with prominent shine around their nipples, the tributes from District 3 fell off the chariot due to the weight of their outfit after the horses made the trip around the circle, the boy from District 5 was only noted as having a bright green penis, and the girl from District 11's stylist was reprimanded for spreading dirt all throughout the parade route.

Training seemed to be similar compared to previous years. The tributes from the inner districts intimidated most of the competition with high caliber skills and their tight knit bonds. Keeping their group small this year, they were the largest alliance. The only other alliances that have formed within the tributes were the cousins between District 9 and a tight knit group of 4 within the outer districts.

While there were standouts immediately after training most first impressions were settled by the end of the interviews, as would become custom for most Hunger Games. The list of duds this year outnumbered the standout successes, as would be common in future years.

The girl from District 2 presented the worst out of the inner districts to this point by speaking only of her loyalty to the capitol and stumbling over her words to the point that she mispronounced her name. The younger cousin from District 9 failed to leave any impact in spite of his rather high intelligence. The tributes from District 6 froze up on stage and the girl from District 5 fainted upon sitting down.

In spite of these duds, the successful tributes were able to shine high above the rest. The District 2 male recovered most of the lost momentum from his partner, gaining the highest odds of any tributes to that point. The female from District 4 received the second highest odds after the interviews began for her honest and tender life story of District camaraderie. The girl from district 9 and the boy from district 11 also stood out for humble and loyal stories.

After all was said and done the odds below were taken once the pre-games ended.

District 1; Male: Cobalt Underwood (17), 9, 8-1 odds; Female: Estrella Ermine (18), 10, 4-1 odds

District 2; Male: Ares Piedra (18), 10, 2-1 odds; Female: Katana Phosphora, (17), 6, 30-1 odds

District 3; Male: Lucian Debrees (16), 3, 100-1 odds; Female: Mai Tenwaller (14), 2, 220-1 odds

District 4; Male: Fjord Niemen (17), 8, 20-1 odds; Female: Novi Daffeter (16), 10, 3-1 odds

District 5; Male: Nick Ruthe (16), 4, 98-1 odds; Female: Kaila di Flaro (16), 4, 108-1 odds

District 6; Male: Henry Jacobson (13), 2, 312-1 odds; Female: Martha Linders (14), 3, 256-1 odds

District 7; Male: Sawyer Bernis (16), 8 , 18-1 odds; Female: Dani Woddward (17), 6, 48-1 odds

District 8; Male: Triange Phillips (12), 2, 271-1 odds; Female: Linlee Cou (18), 9, 12-1 odds

District 9; Male: Brandon Shannon (13), 5, 64-1 odds; Female: Libby Shannon Carters (15), 7, 25-1 odds

District 10; Male: Butch Halverston (15), 7, 38-1 odds; Female: Eva Catmull (13), 4, 290-1 odds

District 11; Male: Jonesy Kale (16), 8, 22-1 odds; Female: Soleil Aramis (15), 4, 240-1 odds

District 12; Male: River Honeycutt (16), 5, 75-1 odds; Female: Poppy Marnigold (15), 8, 36-1 odds

District 13; Male: Stephen Stitterston (18), 3, 180-1 odds; Female: Heather Lowe (17), 6, 69-1 odds

* * *

_**In his words, Fjord** _

When the pedestals finally lift up, humid air hits me like a sack of bricks. Though hot, it's not like the desert of last year, for which I'm eternally grateful.

_52, 51, 50_

I poise myself to the cornucopia. I'm making the run. Leon said as much. After the horror that was the desert last year no one is going to want to turn away.

_49\. 48. 47_

Indeed the people next to me, the girl from District 3 and the boy from District 8, definitely aren't. Three spaces away from me Ares is already looking to make a leap to the bounty at the mouth of the cornucopia. Two spaces away from me on my other side is Linlee. We asked her to join the alliance but she turned her nose. Whoever's closest to her is supposed to take her out.

No, I can't think about that yet, I might throw up.

_29, 28, 27_

I finally begin to focus on the arena all around us. Thick, thick, trees and dark, dark, dirt.. District 7 is going to be home but I'm willing to bet that after how Nina survived last games they're going to run.

_22, 21, 20_

There are too many things to keep track of! Just head in, get out, and run like hell! Why do we have to do all this strategy? Maybe if we keep running far enough I'll find a fucking ocean. Beats this thick jungle any day.

The gong rings and I make the jump onto the jungle floor. I try to get up but I slip on some leaves. Cursing to myself I realize I'm not going to make it to the cornucopia. I need to prowl the sides.

There are backpacks hidden in the underbrush. I don't need a walking arsenal like the other victors have, I just need a way to make it to the end. I fight to my knees and find myself suckerpunched in the face. It's one of the older boys. I don't have time for this, and I don't have a weapon for any of this.

_26th, Poppy Marnigold, District 12 Female, 15 years old, Stabbed by Ares Piedra (D2M)_

I need to grab what I can and run. The other boy makes a grab to me but I sideswipe him and roll to the right. I feel a weapon land in my backpack and I'm ever grateful for the giant size of it.

_25th, Sawyer Bernis, District 7 Male, 16 years old, Decapitated by Estrella Ermine (D1F)_

All around me I hear the screams of the bloodbath beginning. It's going to be much bigger than last year, that much is certain. I push myself to my feet and find myself face to face with the girl from District 10 and the boy from District 5. They seem to be gunning for me for some reason. Looking at the two of them, I fake left and run towards the bounty.

_24th, Triange Phillips, District 8 Male, 12 years old, Skewered by Ares Piedra (D2M)_

A boy falls to the ground in front of me. I step on his neck and hear a sickening crunch. I hope he's able to recover from that.

_23rd, River Honeycutt, District 12 Male, 16 years old, Trampled by Fjord Niemen (D4M)_

Somehow i get to the cornucopia. "Long time no see," Cobalt grunts.

"Got hung up," I dismiss. My handsome ally ducks just as a tomahawk comes from out of nowhere. He grabs a spear and hurls it in the direction of the girl who thre it at him. To his shock the spear lands. He shrugs it off and grabs another spear.

_22nd, Dani Woodward, District 7 Female, 17 years old, Speared by Cobalt Underwood (D1M)_

I find a nice looking pair of swords and shove one into my pincushion of a backpack. I hold my sword out in front of me and run towards the arena, and I bump into the worst possible person I could at this time.

"Fjord…" Novi whimpers.

She slides forward on my sword as I look on in horror.

_21st, Novi Daffeter, District 4 Female, 16 years old, Stabbed by Fjord Niemen (D4M)_

I let go of her and the sword as her blood trickles over my hands. I can't dwell on this. I just can't.

_20th, Kaila di Flaro, District 5 Female, 14 years old, Disemboweled by Heather Lowe (D8F)_

I have to get out of here. Screw what alliance we have! If they found otu they're going to kill me.! I push down a boy in my rush for freedom away from the cornucopia. I hope no one notices me. Breathing heavily I break through the trees and find myself trapped between several branches. My bag, no I can't let go of my bag. What if it has medicine?

_19th, Henry Jacobson, District 6 Male, 13 years old, Bashed by Estrella Ermine (D1F)_

With a lot of effort I'm able to wriggle myself free from the branches and continue running through the jungle. The trees seem to close in on me and they seem to keep pushing forward. The humid heat makes me pant heavily and I trip over a root. I look around me to confirm no one is looking.

_18th, Eva Catmull, District 10 Female, 15 years old, Throat slit by Katana Phosphora (D2F)_

I find a tree that I can easily wrap my hands around. Slowly but surely I find myself climbing up higher and higher and looking for a place to rest. This place ought to be a good place to sit for the night. At least I think so. Breathing heavily I wrench the spear out of my backpack.

With a shaking hand I look through my backpack and pull out a rope, a sleeping bag, some gloves, some dried noodles, and a bottle of water. The bottle of water isn't much. It really can't be much.

_17th, Katana Phosphora, District 2 Female, 17 years old, Bashed by Libby Shannon Carters (D9F)_

When I look through the bag again I find a heavy weight, a heavy piece of metal- what looks like an awl and spool combination. There's also a hammer. I shake as I hold the hammer in my hands. The first girl to win, Paisley, made a couple of kills with this thing… it's not anything that I wanna see again.

The hammer falls out of my hands and to the forest floor. I look down from my branch and see it lying next to the prone body of a boy. The boy twitches and finally goes limp.

_16th, Brandon Shannon, District 9 Male, 13 years old, Hammered by Fjord Niemen (D4M)_

Restraining vomit I grab my spear and my backpack and slowly crawl along the rest of the tree tops. The rest of the day can't be much worse, can it? I just want to live.

But they wanted to as well.

_15th, Stephen Stitterston, District 13 Male, 18 years old, Throat Slit by Linlee Cou (D8F)_

I find myself crawling to a tree with several branches tied closely together. It's enough to make a little base there for a couple of days. Struggling, I move most of my supplies over and lay down on the branches.

_14th, Jonesy Kale, District 11 Male, 16 years old, Neck Snapped by Cobalt Underwood (D1M)_

I wonder if the others have known that I fled them. Tears well to my eyes as the weight of the bloodbath finally dawns on me. How many of us made it through the chaos of the opening hours? How much longer will we suffer this hell?

With my back against the trunk I open my backpack a little more. The weight is gone and with it is most of the volume in the pack. There are more dried noodles and what look to be a smaller water bottle. It certainly smells good enough, so maybe it isn't water. Other than that, there's nothing. Absolutely nothing else. I curl up closer to the trunk of the tree and bring my knees up.

Reality can be a cruel mistress.

As I imagine for the other victors I begin thinking about my family back home. They would have wanted me to win, right? Hard to say.

The leaves materialize into the faces of my father and mother. They have been my only family members to survive the dark days, if barely at that. In the leaves I see their faces slowly turn into the lively, nourished faces that I remember. In my head I beg them to tell me if I've done something right, tell me if I'm still honorable, tell me if I'm still their son.

No response. A smile, a grimace, a tear, and they disappear.

There's a low rolling in the sky as I try to bring the leaves towards me. The tree emits a little bit of sap that causes some other leaves to stick against each other.

_13th, Martha Linders, District 6 Female, 13 years old, Slashed by Cobalt Underwood (D1M)_

Without any idea of what I'm doing I begin gluing leaves upon leaves before I manage to make something respectable. By the time I finish my craft is able to cover my body even when I extend. I can't believe I ruined the alliance this far in. It was supposed to be me and Novi in the end and then we would have figured out something.

Now I'm nothing more than a monster.

The trees seem to close in as the day goes darker. The others would have to cut down enough branches to get in the direction I went. Do they even know which direction I went? I can see from the trees several smoke trails.

From the branches drops a white parachute. I make a leap towards it and grasp it securely in my hands. I'm glad to know that I still have fans even after what I've done.

_12th, Mai Tenwaller, District 3 Female, Dismembered by Estrella Ermine (D1F)_

The first thing I do when I open the package is look for Leon's message. While I do rush I'm careful to keep the contents inside the canister. I'm going to be able to keep it in my backpack, but it's going to take some rearranging. I find the message and hold it up to the dwindling light source. _Keep living, there are still people on your side. They just want someone from back home to make it, Leon_

With the day going darker I find a lighter, some bottles of water-emptied, and what look to be throwing knives. In addition there's a pair of pants, a shirt, and a set of gloves. I don't see much need for them just yet but considering we're in a jungle it might get wet. I for one welcome the wetness.

_11th, Cobalt Underwood, District 1 Male, Partially decapitated by Ares Piedra (D2M)_

Just as I finish sorting my pack and the container, the sky grows dark, and the cannons begin to fire. They have never fired this late before, what happened? One by one the cannons boom and boom and rack the arena with its loud sound. The cannons finally end when I count sixteen of them. I know..

I gulp quietly as I try my best to shift around in this tree top shelter. I was responsible for two of them. I saw Ares and Cobalt slashing some people, and Estrella did so too. I'm willing to bet that the three of them are still together, which means that they are a terrible triad that I have to get away from. Those are at least three threats I have to look out for.

As I lean into the tree trunk and wait for sleep to take over the faces in the leaves become more pronounced. "You're still ours," the face of my mom says. The wind pushes her closer to the face of my father and they disappear again.

"I wanna be back, I wanna be back," I whimper.

As I close my eyes the national anthem begins its signature tune through the entire arena. Even through the trees I can see Cobalt's signature blue eyes pierce through the night. He's already gone? After him is the face of our one time ally, Katana. After her is the face of the District 3 girl.

I gulp quietly while I stare at the sky again. Novi and I were not close, but we did talk most of our alliance. We were supposed to betray the alliance, and then one of us would protect the toher. Not- not the shit I pulled. She had a brother, she had a sister, she had everything worth living for and I didn't. Now I took it away form her.

The next few faces are ones that I don't recognize falling in the bloodbath. The one that shocks me the most is the District 12 girl, the surprisingly strong one from an arguably bad district. Poppy. I at least believe that was her name. Must have sucked for her district to see her die in the games. The final face of the 16 is the District 13 boy. Normally they do pretty well for the Hunger games so to see him gone specifically is a shocker.

The arena goes dark, illuminated by what looks to be fireflies. There are a couple of them down in District 4. As one of them hovers near me I look at it with an air of caution. My mom loved them- we'd hang a couple of them in jars as the nights grew longer whenever we could catch them. Other than that I don't know much about them.

I pull my blanket of leaves closer to me and curl up. I try my best to force the events of the day out of my head and sleep comes easily.

But the dreams that sleep leaves behind hit me like a fish out of water.

The faces of three people from the bloodbath, Novi, the boy from District 9, the boy from District 12, and everyone else from home- Mom, Dad, everyone else, they swim through a fine mist of rain and smoke. I can hear them call for me as I reach for them. My hand touches the corporeal form of one of them and they turn into a biting snake that lunges at me. I throw them back into the void as they call out for me.

I wake up and almost fall out of the tree. Breating heavily I will myself upward and roll myself onto my back and sit up. I don't have abs like Leon or Duke but my core strength doesn't fail me and I sit up on the tree branch. Holding my bag tight to me I realize that when I look up at the crowded tree line I have no idea how to tell time. I know that the sun is probably brighter as it goes higher but I know that even the brightness can blind.

And I'm not trying to create even more permanent damage for me.

I spare a bit of my dried noodles and realize what a big mistake that was. As filled I am with hunger I am really, really thirsty all of a sudden. I'm take a swig of water and move from my position on the tree top. I wonder if I'm able to move from the treetops without setting on the ground. It's gotta be easier, but I bet the District 7 tributes are having the time of their lives right now.

With considerable effort I'm able to shift from my previous tree to another, all the supplies in hand, and make a base for the next night. I look around the tree and find some apples. For the most part they look safe. I hesitate to take a small bite out of one when I get another parachute. Just as I open the canister the first cannon of the day fires.

_10th, Lucian Debrees, District 3 Male, 16 years old, Skewered by Estrella Ermine (D1F)_

There is no note this time, just a small carving knife and a fork. I guess it's safe to eat. It probably couldn't have cost that much this early on. I bite out of the apple and take it bit by bit. We usually don't get apples, most of our fruit money goes lemons and other kinds of citrus to prevent scurvy.

Well, when I say we, I really mean myself, and my friends. My mind flashes back to them as I picture the two of them, either holing up in the rooms and waiting for things to happen, or watching tv and waiting for things to happen.

I wonder if Halie is in my room, sitting on the bed with my blanket and pillows, trying to remember our last night before the reaping. Does she still recognize me after I've killed one of our own? Will she still love me? Is she with Aaron now? He's probably gonna own the house after I die. Unlike most other District 4 families my family was a small one, tight knit, and rather isolated. It was how we preferred it, but it did mean that I grew up pretty lonely.

I don't really care though, allies only cause problems, and friends do for that matter.

I grab another apple and slice it up. The arena seems to get more humid as the day goes on but it's nothing compared to what I experienced down in District 4. Maybe we're further south than district 4. Maybe we're further north, I wouldn't know, the hovercraft seemed to take us on some kind of looping path. It was rumored that the first arena was somewhere in the lands north of District 7 while Leon's arena was somewhere off the coast of District 11.

I'm still painting the image of the map in my head when I feel a slight shift in the tree. I loo up to see that some new nest has appeared with some nasty looking birds. It drops an egg that splatters against the edge of the branch and spills to the ground. Sufficiently creeped out I begin to move around the tree as gingerly as I can. With the knife tucked safely in my belt I move to the other side with my supplies in hand.

The eggs continue to fall behind me as I shift my weight to different trees, steering clear from the birds and their ridiculous spawn. I never got the appeal of eggs from birds, fish eggs were more than enough back in District 4, I'm really craving them now.

Without much more of a thing to do I curl up against my new tree and try my best to conserve energy. i 'm investigating the curves in my new knife when the next cannon fires.

_9th, Heather Lowe, District 13 Female, 17 years old, Bludgeoned by Ares Piedra (D2M)_

I hold my knife and spear warily in front of me as I'm expecting the next threat to fly from in front of me. After five minutes nothing seems to go by and I drop my guard. With a sigh I lean up against the tree.

I could kill again, I did kill, but I have to do it again.

In the games it's not like you want to kill, they don't really give you a choice.

But then again they give you a choice on who you can kill, and I'm the dumbass who killed my District partner.

That's how I'm going to go down.

I'm lost in my thoughts even as the day turns into night and the humidity of the arena catches to me. I grab a low hanging apple and slice it up, it's still good, still good, still good. As i wipe the sweat from my brow I manage to lean against the tree and lose myself again in my thoughts. My hand instinctively goes to a small pin i have on my collar. I wonder if the other tributes had things from home, for all I know this could be the first year where we are all allowed some kind of memento. I didn't pay much attention.

Yeah, if you can tell, I wasn't exactly the premier Panem citizen.

The night grows even darker, if that's possible, and open my lighter and light up what I think is a rather dry branch. To my shock it lights up like a wick quickly. As the heat spreads across the branch I drop it to the ground, where it brightens up the surrounding for a brief moment before something else falls on it and smothers it.

I keep my lighter in my hand as I look to the sky with the sounds of the anthem playing. The first face in the sky tonight is the boy from District 3. I'll be the first to admit that I didn't see much of him when we were all training, I was focused on other threats and his district partner. The second and final face tonight is the girl from District 13. She was stronger than the others, District 13 is usually stronger than the others, they'd make for good allies but the others didn't want to chance them.

My thoughts dwell on the tributes from District 3 when I begin to fall asleep. I crack my back against the trunk and slowly recline. The games were delayed this year because of the girl from District 3, well, the first one. I wonder why they'd even give us access to the roof if they knew a tribute would just jump down and end their life.

It seems like it never crossed their minds. Probably too far deep in their plastic wigs and fake bodies.

Sleep comes surprisingly easy again, but when my dreams begin I can tell that this night is going to be just as uncomfortable as the lot of them.

Then again, I don't remember my dreams.

I wake up feeling uncomfortable and not just because this is the second day in a row I wake up looking straight down at the ground. Breathing heavily I roll myself up again and take a recollection of my inventory. My blanket, my spear, and my bag have all fallen to the ground. Groaning quietly I fix myself around and slowly but surely make my way down the tree.

With my knife in hand I slowly creep through the underbrush, careful not to make a sound, but alas, my efforts are futile. As I take a step closer to my bag and spear a dark skinned girl steps out from one of the tree trunks. She looks like she's been hiding there, we must have either shared the same vicinity or shared the same tree. I hardly saw her, but she clear as day sees me.

The two of us stare at each other, then at the bag, then at each other. She's weaponless, skinny, and rather average height. Well, she's young but tall for her age, and she made it past how many other tributes? 18? She's got some fight in her.

She must.

She curls her lips.

I tighten my grip.

Then she runs through the underbrush with blazing speed. I chase after her and jump in front of her as she gets her hands on my spear. I use one of my other hands to bring the spear forward and she loses her balance. She throws a punch and manages a kick in my direction.

In a brief second I lose my balance but I get it back just as she pulls the spear out from under me. I dodge her first clumsy strike and slash my knife against her face. She screams in pain and I drive the knife further into her head. She falls to the ground a bleeding mess and her cannon fires.

_8th, Soleil Aramis, District 11 Female, 15 years old, Knifed by Fjord Niemen (D4M)_

It's the second time I see life drain from the eyes of one of my victims. I leave the knife in her head yet wrench the spear from her hands. She's younger than Novi but older than that other boy. And now she's just a victim. I don't even know her name.

As I hang my head in shame I bring the bag close to my chest and walk away from the scene of the crime. Well, legal murder so to say, in that case it wouldn't even be a crime. I make it what I think to be five hundred yards away when I'm hit with a strong force of light that illuminates a lot of the area next to me. My guess is that the hovercraft had to split apart the trees in order to get to her body.

After what seems like another 700 yards I finally decide to stop. If I want to make it to the finale I can't be that far away from the Cornucopia. Then again, I look around, the trademark gold of the cornucopia this year is nowhere to be seen. I'm hardly smarter than a fish stick.

Or a jellyfish.

I set to climbing the rather tall tree and get myself some...20 feet off of the ground. There's a lot of leaves under me so that if I fall, which is likely, then I'll be able to save myself. I think there was a tribute in one of the earlier games that died by falling out of the trees, or they were crushed by it, one way oor another they died because of it. Another cannon goes off when I remain lost in my thoughts.

_7th, Butch Halverston, District 10 Male, 15 years old, Strangled by Kaila di Flaro (D5F)_

Exhausted, I lean against the branches of the tree and scoop up enough leaves to make a pillow. I don't know if it's the jungle but I'm sweating a lot more than usual. It's probably a ploy to take off my shirt, like Nina's boyfriend. So much mandatory viewing was wasted on their romance.

Just as my head touches the trunk a parachute manages to sweep through the tree branches. It's a heavy one this time. I open it up to a giant whiff of fish and beef. Fish is always a great comfort meal, this time it looks like anchovies, but the beef has to wait this time around. Under the fish is a loaf of bread and some rather hot water in a pot. There's a couple of sticks on the side that look like they could be used for something and what looks like a note from Leon.

"The sponsors are relentless and they want to support you," Leon's note reads. "Don't give up on us, you may be the underdog but you can still make it home for us. I'm still on your side no matter what."

I wipe a tear from my eye as I hold my parachute to the sky and whisper out a small thank you. I investigate the rest of the sticks to find out that they make for what seems to be a telescopic and portable spear. It'll definitely come in handy whenever I have to battle someone again.

The rest of the day there are no cannons and I spend it working out the kinks in this extending spear. It's going to have to come together on a fly, it's going to have to curve if i need any advantage against some of the other tributes in this kind of Arena.

I look up to the sky when the nightly anthem begins to play. The first face in the sky is the boy from District 10. I don't remember much of him from training or the interviews, he seemed like a good kid but that's about all I remember- kind of like Aaron when we were all younger, like 13 or so. The second and final face in the sky if my guesses is right is that of the dark skinned girl from District 11. District 11. Of course, that's where she was from. Most of the kids from District 11 are dark skinned and they're usually the darkest there.

I mean, exceptions do exist since there are dark skinned people everywhere. Just more common n District 11 due to genetics and stuff like that. I was never the brightest kid in school.

Man I really wish I had someone to talk to, but I guess that's what I deserve for killing my district partner. Would Halie want me to think so selfishly? Does she even want me back home after all of this? From the rumors I've heard Leon doesn't exactly have the best dating life, being a capitol playboy and big flirt with all the ladies.

But I can't think about that now, I just need to sleep.

I don't know how long it takes for me to get to sleep this time around but this time I do remember all the dreams that I do have. In my first one I get another parachute that opens up and spills water over the arena. While I begin to tread water frantically I manage to make headway out of the flooding arena and climb into a tree and rest again. I blink and then my second dream takes me back to a haunting District 4.

Leon opens the gates to a sea of fire that eclipses my body and pushes me into a thick humid forest-jungle- like my arena. In the trees I see the faces of four people, and the first one to speak is Novi's tree. She reaches out to me with claws and spears and the branches of her tree. I duck her grasps and fall over the leaves.

I'm still falling when I wake up.

Well, that's not the right word, rolling over the branches and waking up with my face to the ground is more apt in this many times have I woken up like this?

I fix myself up on the branch when the day begins to break, eating a meal of noodles and beef and bread. It's probably a lot more than I should be eating but there are only what...six-five of us left. How much longer can the games last?

In that case I should be grateful that this Hunger Games doesn't seem like it'll last as long as the desert games last year. I think this Hunger Games has the potential to end sooner than even the first Games. That was a week of nightmares. I had to watch outside of the hospital on those big screens. Mom and Dad were still not comatose then but they were...they were losing it then.

Looking around the tree again I see some of the weird bird things- mutts as the capitol calls them, mutts appearing on either side of the branch. It's not a good sign, especially this early. I lower my gaze but keep steady on the tree as I slowly move down the tree with my stuff. All my movement doesn't provoke them but they rotate their long heads and beaks when I move closer to them.

I move in the opposite direction where they're both perched as quickly as I can manage.

There's a crack beneath my feet,

A bird launches itself at me.

I hold my knife defensively and stagger backwards. The bird flaps its wings and splatters me with its green blood.

Impulsively I wipe away and turn around. It's harder to run here than I'm sure it looks on television. I'm tripping over roots and the bird tries to pick me up a couple of times. I find myself some seven feet off of the ground ebfore the forward momentum suddenly stops. Tumbling down I look around to see that my bag is still on my back. My knee is scraped and the part of my hand that had the green blood is bleeding.

After that mutt attack I continue walking, walking in the opposite direction of the mutts, only stopping once when the cannon fires.

_6th, Linlee Cou, District 8 Female, 18 years old, Bled out from Injuries incurred by Ares Piedra (D2M)_

I retreat under a tree and wait for the rest of the cannons, if there are any, to fire. Once no further cannons fire I curl up under the tree and sit. I'm rewarded for my patience when another parachute, a smaller one, comes down from the sky. The white parachute hovers in front of me before I grab it from its floating position. Inside are some bandages, some anti-bacterial stuff, some cotton balls, and some tape. Good.

It doesn't take long for me to lather and cover my wounds. It must have cost Leon a pretty penny, so either I have fans in the Capitol or people from District 4 are pooling their money. The first option seems more likely than the latter one.

There have been attempts on the lives on victors before. One on Remus and one on Paisley, those two are common knowledge. There might have been more but the Capitol has been keeping better track of its victors lately. Leon says he's considered something of a second class citizen- as opposed to us District people being what? Third Class citizens?

My stomach rumbles and in response I take a little more of my beef and noodles. I also take some water from my bottles before lying against the trunk. I think it's best if I rest. Though the capitol doesn't want tributes lying about for too long, that's why they sent mutts on the dominant alliance last year. Just as I'm thinking it the cannon fires for the second time today.

_5th, Nick Ruthe, District 5 Male, 16 years old, Throat slit by Libby Shannon Carters (D9F)_

At this point I'm sure that I've lost count of who is left. The sound of the cannon is only identifiable so many times. I think that was the...22nd? Might be the 21st?

While I'm lost in my thoughts my hands subconsciously move to the pile of leaves near me. I think I grab some sap and get some leaves together. By the time I snap out of it I've made a giant curtain or blanket. Just in time, since the sun is beating down on my eyes through the leaves of my surroundings. I'm able to make my blanket into a curtain to prevent the sun from burning me further.

Actually if anything else I think I'm getting paler. Might be the humidity. It's actually somewhat relieving. There aren't many forests in District 4. This thick forest is actually pretty beautiful in the right light. I wonder if District 7 experiences this luxury often. Though if they're worked as hard as the river and pond fishers, it's probably not that luxurious.

I lose myself in my thoughts again. By the time I pull myself out of thoughts of green and blue and pink the arena is already dark. I'm picking through my food and water when the anthem begins. From my position I'm able to see the face of the first tribute dead.

Bright red hair. A tribute from District 5. Red hair is most common in district 5 for some reason, District 4's red hair is darker. He didn't really stand out, didn't score that high, didn't seem rich. But somehow he outlasted so many others.

After him is the girl with almond eyes and black hair from District 8. She was so eerily doll like in the interviews. She said something about being catered or something. I expected her to go far nonetheless. She seemed richer and she seemed in better shape, but she always struck me as a prissy rich kid.

The anthem disappears. Two more faces gone. If I'm right then we're in the top 4. They must have started the interviews yesterday, final 8 or so. I think in previous years final 8 was the limit. They probably interviewed Halie and Aaron and probably did some kind of sob story about my parents. I wonder what they got from the other tributes. We all have stories, but very little of them are going to be told.

Now I wish I paid attention to the interviews. It wouldn't have been much, but it would have been something.

Sleep washes over me surprisingly easy this time around but I'm still thrashed and beaten against the nightmares. I'm on a rocking ship that spirals towards a whirlpool at a dangerous speed. As the ship tilts I run towards my parents in their beds and try to keep them on the ship as long as possible. Something pushes into me.

There's a searing pain through my stomach. To my ever increasing horror I see a growing red flower on my stomach. It blows up in my face and I'm blinded temporarily. It smells of iron and worse- blood. As I whip my head around I see Novi's bloody smile in my vision. She gives me a last push and I go tumbling into the whirlpool.

When I wake up it's to the heat of the sun and the sound of a cannon.

_4th, Libby Shannon Carters, District 9 Female, 15 years old, Disemboweled by Estrella Ermine (D1F)_

"That's it, right?" I hear a boy say. He grunts. It's Ares, District 2. I haven't seen him since the bloodbath.

"No," the only other girl left says. "Ares there's one left!"

"Why don't we just do this now?!" Ares shouts. I peek through my leaf curtain to see that Ares and Estrella have shed their shirts and pants. Probably a good decision, probably a bad decision. Estrella looks bloody. She's probably the one who killed the other tribute.

Wordlessly and almost breathlessly I assemble my spear. Ares and Estrella's argument doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I can see the corpse of the latest tribute to die, a girl, just behind Estrella. Maybe she tried to ambush her?

Closer to the curtain is Ares, but I'm not going to get far if I just stab him outright. The two of them are arguing louder and louder as I dismantle my curtain.

With the curtain loose enough I throw it forward, catching the two of them off guard mid-argument. As they try to claw through the curtain I pounce on Ares.

As he stands up I use my spear and stab him through the throat, pulling it out in a spray of blood. He swings his small sword against me but I dodge out of the way and send my spear flying in Estrella's general direction.

Or at least where she was some five seconds ago.

I feel her jump on my back and feel her pull at my hair as he runs a blade through about an inch of my neck.

Fear coursing through my head and adrenaline running through my blood I flip her over and wrench her dagger out from her.

She falls to the ground.

I jump on her as Ares falls, crushing the two of us.

_3rd, Ares Piedra, District 2 Male, 18 years old, Throat pierced by Fjord Nieman (D4M)_

Estrella and I are screaming.

She pushes her hands against my mouth. I bite on her fingers as I slam the dagger in her forehead.

There are two cannons.

_2nd, Estrella ERmine, District 1 Female, 18 years old, Stabbed by Fjord Nieman (D4M)_

I push Ares off of me and his body falls to the side. I try to stand up.

The blood pours from my head.

"Victor of….Nieman….from…..FOUR!" The trumpets sound.

Something drops over me.

I grab on.

* * *

_Fjord Nieman's victory meant that District 4 was the very first District to claim two victors. Immediately after his final battle he slipped into a coma for two days. Spending 5 days in the Hunger Games, this record for brevity stood until the 39th Hunger Games._

_Leon and District 4's next victor overshadowed Fjord. As such he escaped the brunt of the Victor's prostitution ring. The fish out of water would serve as a loyal victor to the capitol, while derided as a career by later victors. Through his victory tour he met many unhappy citizens who insulted him for his role in Novi's death._

_This was contrasted by the reception he got from the inner Districts. Several teenagers from the still-growing academies noted him as a worthy opponent. These teenagers made compelling exhibitions that were well received in the Capitol. Fjord was respectful and polite when shown these exhibitions. Despite this, he only showed vested interest in_

_Fjord's life was an anomaly among many of the earlier victors. It was known that he married long-time friend Halie, fathered three daughters, and had several grandchildren. He used his role as a victor to become the head trainer of District 4's academy. Tragically, his middle daughter was the first Victor's Legacy to enter the arena. Unlike later legacies, she would not make it out of the arena._

_Fjord suffered from melanoma late in his life and suffered a bad reaction from the medicine treatments. Fjord died the year of the 86th Hunger Games after his wife died 2 years prior. While rumors did circulate that all three of his daughters surrounded his deathbed, they still hold little factual merit. It is possible that his daughter did survive a supplementary hunger games but most information related to the supplementary games are lost to the ages._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who are still reading, thank you. I am working on more chapters and another project to accompany this fanfiction. I hope you keep reading and enjoying

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new project posted concurrently to fanfiction.net. If you like what you see please leave a comment with your thoughts on the project. This is an alternate universe where District 13 was not bombed into oblivion and there will be more than the canon 75 hunger games. Thanks for reading ahead of time.


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